A MEMORY LIKE WATER
by gumtuu
Summary: Part 3 of 5 after ALMOST. Are Trevor and Claire really on Titanic or just delusional?
1. memory like water page 1

A MEMORY LIKE WATER A story about the tv show, Cupid  
Part Three of Five  
by Steve 0yervidez  
gumtuu@hotmail.com  


The carnival was in town, and it had seen better days. Spread across a field of asphalt were the various trappings of a second rate production. Ragged tents of multiple faded colors competed for space with the well-worn, garish shapes and lights of rusted aging rides. All clustered together beneath a slate gray Chicago sky which had just opened up and drenched the forlorn sight. The asphalt seemed to glow deep black from the recent rain, and the puddles of water shimmered with diluted liquids. The aisles and rides were mostly deserted. Few patrons had decided to partake with the threat of more rain hanging above. Alone in that expanse, walking slowly, were two people. Trevor and Claire stepped unhurried down the central midway, talking to each other.  
"So, tell me again why we're here Trevor?" She looked at the hot dog Trevor had bought her, unsure she wanted to touch it.  
Trevor looked over at her. He saw the lack of enthusiasm in her eyes, eyes that looked as if they hadn't seen anything fun in front of them for far too long. "I just felt you needed a break, Claire. Your bitchiness level has been off the chart's lately..." He trailed off as he saw her shoulders tense.  
"My _what_ level?"  
"Your... bad chi ness. Your bad chi. Yeah. That's... that's what I said."  
"Oh." She nodded with him, knowing full well it wasn't. "That's what I thought you said."  
Trevor continued. "Look, since lately you've been in such a-" she fixed him with a glare that could have melted ice. He chose his words carefully, "-_intense_ mood, I figured I could use a break. Wait... I mean _you_ could use a break."  
"Uh-huh."  
"And I heard the carnival was in town so I thought what a better place for-"  
"Another half-baked ill conceived scheme of yours to find my true love?"  
"Not at all. Why would I do that?" he asked innocently.  
"Oh, I don't know. Why do you breathe? Why do you walk? Why you do anything is a continuing puzzle to me..."  
Trevor continued. "I mean, just because Alex failed, then Frank, then the doctor I tried to set you up with..." Moaning, his voice sounded less enthusiastic with each name, none too subtly implying that she was too picky and it was her fault his efforts failed.  
Claire picked up the implication. "First of all," She waved her hot dog at him, "you had nothing to do with me and Frank being together. And without your misguided meddling to screw things up, I'm surprised it managed to fail all on its own. Second, with the track record of those you _have_ tripped my way, why should I even listen to anything you say? So you can dial me up another selection from the hunk-of-the-month club and doom it to failure too? Another pointless exercise?"  
"Well, it's definitely exercise. But if it turns out to be pointless, then he's doing it wrong. Hmm. Stud-of-the-month. Yeah, I've heard of that club. Probably not quite your style. Since I hear their more into bi-monthly deliveries, if you catch my meaning."  
"Trevor, a blind wet butterfly could catch you're meaning."  
"Blind wet butterflies. Didn't they tour with Pearl Jam?"  
Her mood didn't lighten. "All I know is that whatever you have planned is not going to work."  
Trevor wasn't phased by her lack of enthusiasm. It was blood in the water to him. "That works for me since I have nothing planned."  
"Besides," she looked up at the sky as she heard distant thunder. "Who comes to a carnival on a wet dreary day like today?"  
"I don't know, people who's idea of fun isn't weather specific? Besides, I thought you liked the rain, Claire."  
"I do, we're just not very close."  
"To water's detriment everywhere," Trevor said with a flourish.  
"Trevor..."  
"Look, Claire. Just try to have a good time!" Trevor laughed as if it were simple, trying to make his point. "Eat some cotton candy, throw up in a tilt-a-whirl, tilt up and throw a whirl, if your lucky it'll hit a mime! It's called fun!"  
"Only if the parameters of fun-"  
Trevor shook his head to clear it, muttering to himself in disbelief. "Parameters of fun.."   
"-are defined by another pointless waste of time and money that makes you ill, and has absolutely no redeeming value what so ever. Is that really what your prescribing for me, Trevor?"  
"Well when you put it that way, you make it sound... perfect." She could see he wasn't joking. Claire sighed.  
"Trevor, the kind of worries I have aren't going to go away just by," she whirled her arms before her, "spinning very fast. My case load is at an all time high, I'm single, alone, bored beyond tears..."  
"Hey!" Trevor took offense. He spread his arms out as if too say, _Hello, I'm standing right here_.  
"Sorry. I mean romantically alone."  
Trevor started the motion again but stopped himself, waving it off as pointless.  
"Professionally, my case load is at an all-time high..."  
Trevor gave her a grin. "That return business must have you glowing with pride."  
Claire ignored him. "I've made no progress on my latest book, so my editor's been breathing down my neck..."  
He raised an eyebrow. "So that's how you get published. I hope he bought you dinner first."  
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "And I have this one psychotic patient who insists on dragging me to a carnival with the questionable belief that fried sweets and motion-induced blood depravation are the cure for all my ills, ironic as that seems."  
"Hmm. Whoever you're not so subtly referring to, he sounds like a sweet guy. Yeah. You really should thank him before he does something truly horrible like-" Trevor shivered, "-making you smile." He paused, waiting for it. She didn't.  
"Trevor, I do appreciate the effort, but I just don't think its going to work." She sounded resigned to it.  
"That's what they said about Viagra, Claire. Then things started looking up. That pill was a stroke of genius on my part, by the way."  
She looked over. "Don't tell me you're going to take credit for-" She paused, knowing better. "Of course you are. Silly me. Why would I think you wouldn't."  
"Maybe I'm just trying to get a rise out of you, Claire. You know that I've always taken a great interest in whatever runs your flag up the-"  
"I'm afraid I'm all innuendoed out today, Trevor. Thanks, but no thanks." She finally got the nerve to take a cautious bite out of her hot dog. Trevor smiled, resisting the impulse for another innuendo.  
"Then take this seriously, Claire!" Trevor tried to make her see how much she needed this. "Don't you realize that you need a industrial dose of fun in your life? That's what life's for! You're either french-kissing life or waiting for death to make a house call. While sitting beside your dozen cats and wondering why no one comes over anymore. There is no in between!" He motioned to a shabby tent they were passing. "Take this lady. A psychic slash hypnotist. Hmm. I hope that doesn't refer to some sort of cage match."   
Claire seemed less than enthusiastic as she glanced over. Much less.  
Trevor looked at her."Oh, come on! Let's go inside and let her rip, throw your inhibitions to the rain soaked wind."  
"I think I should throw this hot dog to the rain soaked wind." Claire made a face as she took another bite of its stale bun.  
He tried to sound encouraging. "Why not see what she has to say? You need something trivial and ridiculous in your life, so why not her."  
"No, I think you've got those covered, Trevor."  
"Claire, if you don't feel foolish doing it then it's probably not worth doing. Everybody knows that."  
"Oh, of course!" she said sarcastically. "I remember that speech from school. Churchill right? From his _I've run out of interesting things to say_ phase."  
"Well, it's either the travelling oracle here or the rollercoaster, which you might also enjoy but for different reasons. If recent history is any indication, and sadly in your case it is, all too nostalgic ones. I hear the first drop sends a tingle right up between your-"  
Claire shoved her hot dog in his mouth before he could finish. "I'm sorry, Trevor. I couldn't hear you. Your mouth was full." She wiped her fingers together, brushing them off.  
Trevor mumbled as he chewed. "Needs more mustard."  
Claire looked over at the tattered tent with an intrigued expression as she considered it. "A psychic, huh?"  
Trevor nodded as he finished his impromptu meal. "Slash hypnotist. From what I've heard she's the real deal."  
Her face was thoughtful. "And you've never been here before?"  
"No." Trevor leaned forward slightly as the tail end of the hot dog he had shoved in his mouth crumbled off and fell to the floor.  
Claire smiled for the first time. "Well, that does raise some... possibilities. If she really is a psychic, and being a deity you _must_ be right, then when you walk in she'll either recognize you as the god of love-"  
Trevor looked at her suspiciously, still chewing. "I suppose..."  
"-or she'll be able to tell me who you actually are. The average, ordinary, mortal you, I mean."  
"Well, anything's _possible_..."  
"On the other hand, if she's a fraud, she'll concoct some wild story so off the mark that your godly wisdom will be forced to cringe in that toy attic you call a brain." Her smile grew as she thought about it.  
"Maybe..." Trevor was reluctant. He didn't like where this was going.  
"Hmm, so many interesting ways of watching you squirm." Claire gave him a satisfied look.  
"Sounds good to me Trevor," she said. "Let's do it."  
"On second thought, maybe the rollercoaster would be-" He started to walk away before she grabbed his arm.  
"Oh come on, Trevor. Afraid of looking foolish?" Another rumble of thunder rolled overhead. "If you don't feel foolish doing it then it's probably not worth doing." She smiled, knowing she had him cornered.  
"Ok, fine." Trevor wiped his mouth with his hand, having just finished the hot dog. He took his time as he stood there licking his fingers. Claire waited impatiently.  
Suddenly the hiss of approaching rain flowed towards them and they found themselves in the middle of a deluge of water, soaking deep into their clothes.  
Claire looked at him, her hair wet against her forehead. "Didn't you say something about a rain-soaked wind?"  
Trevor didn't seem to mind the rain. He looked at her. "You know, that was a good hot dog. Which food stand did we get that from anyway?" He took a step as if to go searching for it.  
"Trevor!" Claire latched onto him again, directing him towards the tent flaps. She was surprised he had even been able to keep the hot dog down. Trevor stopped struggling and let himself be pushed. Raising his voice over the noise of the rain, he spoke into her ear.  
"Me, almighty! I really wish you had worn white today."  
"Just go, Trevor!"  
They disappeared into the tent as the rain poured down stronger than ever. Thunder rumbled in the sky.  
A radio was playing on the floor beside a small circular table, filling the tent with music. Seated behind the table was a wrinkled old woman, dressed in several colors, none of them matching. A cigarette dangled from her mouth as she scanned the newspaper want ads, shaking her head in disgust at what she saw there. She tapped the cigarette's burnt tip into an ashtray, not really caring if each gray flake found its mark. Looking up, she moaned in annoyance as Claire and Trevor entered in a rush, scrambling to get out of the rain.  
The woman almost panicked when she recognized the two of them, as if she wanted to be anywhere else but there. "Oh no no no! Not again!" Quickly she stood up and started gathering her things. Trevor and Claire didn't notice as they stood there trying to wipe some of the moisture off their wet clothes and hair. Claire looked up, pushing away a brunette tress caked wetly against her forehead.  
"Hi," she began, "We're here to-" Stopping herself, she watched the old woman scurrying to pack her things. "Umm, it seems like your... leaving." She said simply, surprised. "I guess... we could come back later..." Even as Claire suggested it, she wondered if they should just turn around and leave.  
The old woman stopped dead in her tracks when she heard Claire's words, like they were a pronouncement of doom. Her head drooped almost to her chest in resignation as she sighed. "I suppose you're right. What's the use. You'd only come back. Again and again." She sounded like she couldn't fight it any longer. Resigned to her fate, the old woman slowly folded the newspaper she held, dragging her feet as she returned to her chair. After seating herself, she bent down and turned off the radio. Taking one long drag off of her cigarette, she leaned back and completely ignored the two of them. They stood there uncertain of what to do.  
Claire slowly waved her hands to get her attention. "Excuse me, but-" The old woman silently looked over at them for several seconds as she blew a stream of smoke into the air. The noise of rain pelting the tent was the only other sound. Uncomfortable, Claire continued.  
"Well, the two of us have come to... I mean if you're not too busy, we need... Are you open?"  
The old lady said nothing, watching them with deep gray eyes.  
Claire pressed on reluctantly. "We need to make use of your talents. If you have any. Not that I'm questioning your abilities," her laugh was awkward. "I mean, I suppose I have an open mind, I guess. My name is-"  
"I know who you are. Or who you think you are." The old lady dropped the cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath her heel. Her tone of voice and body movements conveyed a deep disinterest. A tired contempt for what she was doing with her life. Without a word she pulled a crystal ball, cracked in several places, out of a velvet lined black box at her feet. Pushing the ashtray slightly to the center, she placed the ball on top of it, as it formed a base. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit that one too, puffing on it as she looked at them still standing there.  
"Well, sit down already," she said crossly. "I haven't got all day."  
Trevor and Claire each took one of the cold metal chairs before the table and sat down. She caught Trevor's eyes with her own. His eyes went wide with annoyance before he looked away, commenting wordlessly on the psychic's mood.  
"You two," she was muttering to herself. "No matter where I go I always find you two."  
Claire seemed confused. "Actually, this is our first time seeing you..." she pointed out.  
The old lady snorted. "I wish."  
"Ohhhh-kay," Claire said slowly, not really understanding. "I was hoping you could help me out with," she glanced at Trevor, "a little problem of mine. My... friend here has always been very secretive about his past-"  
"No, I haven't" Trevor said matter-of-factly under his breath.  
"And, as much as I've enjoyed his unique... personality, there's always been some things he's never told me. If you could use your, well, let's call them skills, to help me uncover what those are, I'd be grateful." She smiled weakly, trying to get the psychic more involved.  
Trevor leaned forward, eager for his turn. "Ditto for me, actually. My pet mind shrinker here has a few things that need to be brought to the surface too. Namely," Trevor started counting off on his fingers, "her feelings, a sense of fun, an ability to ignore her inhibitions, recognizing a good time, a greater and indecent amount of naked skin, more of a predilection to shake her _groove thang_..."  
"Trevor..."  
He looked over at her. "What? Shouldn't I get something out of this too? There's a thing or two I'd like to learn about you, Claire. Like... do you snuggle afterwards, can your neighbors hear when cross the finish line in the bedspring marathon, is tipping allowed afterwards. You know, that sort of thing. What's good for the goose-"  
Claire swivelled her face towards him, biting her lower lip and pulling it free as her mouth hung open in warning.  
Trevor finished quickly. "-is a _very good_ gander." He leaned back before she could protest further. Claire turned back to the old lady.  
"Anyway, do you think you can give me some insight into _him_? If there is such a thing."  
The old lady watched the two of them for several seconds, as if none of what they had said came as any surprise to her. In fact when she spoke, it was as if they had said nothing at all.  
"You two. Always you two. Just for once couldn't you leave me alone?" she asked wearily.  
Claire waved a hesitant hand to the exit behind them. Why did she suddenly feel like she was in the principal's office? "If you're closed for business we could leave..." She looked reluctantly up at the sound of the rain still thick on the tent's roof.  
"What difference would that make?" The old lady waved her cigarette at them. "You'd just come back, eventually. Always you two."  
"I don't understand," Claire said.  
"No, of course you don't," the psychic said irritably. "That would only make my job easier and we can't have that."  
Trevor had heard enough. "OK rag-muffin, look. I don't know what cold breeze blew up your... tent today, but we were just hoping you could help us. So unless that crystal ball is a stone you just finished passing, I don't think a little courtesy is too much to ask for." Trevor got up to leave.  
"Sit. Sit." The old lady said, still crotchety as ever. She turned away from them as Trevor sat back down. Looking into the distance as if remembering, she exhaled, filling the air with hazy ribbons. Calmly she waved her hand through them, disturbing their shapes as it passed.  
"Lives flow and dance, like smoke on the air. Like waves on the ocean of time. But then one quick calamitous breeze comes along," she blew out her breath sharply, dissipating the smoke before her, "and those lives are gone. But if your lucky, you retain some particle of what came before. Some seed that survives through to the next life, and you gain wisdom."  
She grunted to herself quietly, as thunder rolled outside. "Help you? Like that ever made a difference before. Fine. We'll go through this again. And you'll forget it again the next time you come in here." The woman turned towards Claire, freezing her with a pointed finger.  
"You. You want me to tell you what he is, _who_... he is. Why should I? In his own way he's already told you, and you don't believe him. You wouldn't believe him if he shot you in the ass. And it's always for the same reasons. You question everything, over-analyzing it until all the joy has been sucked right out of it."  
Claire felt offended, but she couldn't find anything to say, sputtering in annoyance at the unexpected attack.  
Trevor blinked. "Sucking the joy out of it. That was vaguely... arousing."  
Instantly the woman swivelled her accusing finger towards Trevor.  
"And _you_. Always surprised that you can't sweep women off their feet like you used to. That for once you might have to appeal to their hearts, their minds, their, oh heavens forbid, _good-taste_. That love isn't just marksmanship. Maybe just once you'd realize life isn't just some extended toga party. That being honest with your emotions is the best aphrodisiac ever created. Touching hearts instead of touching bodies. Instead of using your usual inane song and dance."  
Trevor looked at her for several seconds. Then he started soft-shoeing as he sat there.  
"Hopeless." The old woman shook her head. "Both of you. Hopeless. Repeating the same mistakes. You two have a _memory like water_, always adjusting to the new containers you're filling, saving nothing of what shaped you before. Lessons you have to re-learn all over again."  
Finally Trevor spoke up, turning to Claire. "Ok, I was wrong. She's a fraud. She doesn't know a thing about us..." The old woman chuckled in response, knowing what he referred to.  
"What," the old lady continued, "you don't believe you have past lives just because one of the other gods doesn't want you to remember them? Do you think this is the first time they've sent you down here to learn your lesson? Broken hearts and broken marriages have existed since the dawn of time in one form or another. There's nothing different about recent history, except now there are more lawyers. Besides, that's what love is. You can't have a heart unless it can break. But they keep sending you back, hoping you'll learn that. Right, like that's going to happen."  
Claire broke in. "If you could slow down for a moment I might be able to explain something to you." She went into a slow voice she would use on a confused child, still annoyed by what the woman had said earlier. "We've never been here, OK? The two of us have never met you before."  
"Here we go..." The old lady turned away to smoke her cigarette, nodding as Claire spoke but not really listening.  
Claire was on a roll, unstoppable. "I don't understand why you're so upset we showed up since you _were_ open. Or why you believe that because life has treated you badly its somehow our fault. Even though we've never met, of course. You've been abusive, belittling, and demeaning since we came in here. Forming snap conclusions. Passing all these vague judgements when you don't know a thing about us..."  
Trevor leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Exactly. Tell her that's _your_ job, Claire." He pulled back quickly as she shooed him away with her hand, like a bothersome fly.  
"I mean," Claire continued angrily, "You act like you don't want to be here, but I don't see a gun to your head forcing you to stay. And all these generalized comments you pass off as insight-"  
Claire stopped herself in shock when she saw the old lady's lips mimicking her exactly word for word, like she had it memorized. The woman looked up when she realized Claire wasn't talking.   
"Oh, are you done yet? What good would specific information be anyway? If I told you that your Father's name was Bill and which groupie he's in bed with at this very exact moment, you would just assume someone fed me that information somehow, so I'd still be a fraud, right? But if I'm too generalized in my answers you think the same thing for not being more specific. Either way, I can't win, so why not go with the easy stuff. Cut through the crap."  
Claire looked at her, still not believing a word she said. "If we were in here before, when was that?"  
"Well, we didn't meet in this particular place, that was different. But if I had to place an interval on it, it would have to be... oh, ninety plus years."  


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	2. memory like water page 2

  
Claire and Trevor were silent for several moments.  
Trevor finally spoke. "People say I'm delusional but she's still walking the streets?"  
Claire looked at the old lady. "That's ridiculous."  
"I wish it was. A lot has happened that you don't remember. All of it evaporated away." The psychic took another puff. "You know, someday I'm going to figure out why I've been cursed with the two of you. What I did to deserve this. I've been all over the world, in different bodies and different times. Yet no matter where I go, you two always find me. If I could put less effort into doing something else, I'd leave the business."  
"Hey, Cancer woman!" Trevor waved to get her attention. "In case you missed it, I'm the god of love, OK? I'm not some delusional mortal who thinks his pointless life is stuck in re-runs! I've got a ticket waiting to take me home someday. Maybe you heard of it. Olympus? Nymphs, gods, nude calisthenics, ring a bell?"  
The old lady ignored him, muttering to herself like a crazy woman.  
Claire looked at the woman, not believing her little presentation. "Well, it's a nice story, but conveniently, there's no way you can prove it. Let's get out of here Trevor. This is a waste of time."  
They both got up to leave when the old woman laughed. Loudly, with the first genuine mirth they'd seen from her. It took several seconds before she was able to speak again. "Proof? You want proof? Sure. I can do that. It might be fun to show you two up. Sit down. I'll give you your proof."  
Trevor and Claire stood there, trying to decide whether to stay, still damp from the rain. It continued to pour down in sheets outside. Thunder boomed overhead, fading into the old lady's giggles to herself, still amused by what she planned. Claire looked at Trevor.  
"Well, it _is_ still raining..." she said. Trevor tossed his hands into the air, accepting that as he nodded. Together they sat back down again.  
"So sunshine," Trevor said, smiling. "Show me what you got. Let's see you wow the god of love."  
"Trevor, be nice." Claire chided him. "OK, we're sitting down. Where's your proof?"  
The old woman interlaced her fingers and cracked her knuckles. "Fine. A lot of lives have changed since you came to me last. I'm going to show one of your past lives to you. But this time, you'll keep your awareness. You'll see yourselves as who you are now instead of who you were then. It could prove useful. You might be able to find out some things about each other." She pushed the table to the side and scooted her chair up next to them. The rain continued to hiss against the outside of the tent, loud in the quiet air. "Now, please. If you would just hold still..."  
Trevor made a nervous glance towards Claire. She was looking at him as well. They both had no idea what to expect. Together they looked back, resolved.  
The old woman smiled as she lifted her hands and pointed one long, bony finger at each of their faces. Softly, she placed a fingertip on both of their foreheads. Trevor and Claire sat totally still, curious at the sensation of her touching them.  
The aged psychic closed her eyes and exhaled, concentrating. Suddenly she inhaled, and held her breath as a bright flash of light flared between her fingertips and their skin, filling the tent with a blue glare. Trevor and Claire saw nothing, dropping instantly into blackness, as the thunder faded away.  
Claire woke first, opening her eyes to a dim white light. She was on her back staring at the ceiling above her. A solid ceiling, fairly low and definitely not the tent she had been in before. Looking quickly around she realized she was on a tiny bunk in a small white room. Somewhere out of sight a distant bell rung.  
"Trevor?"  
Claire rose to a seated position and came to the disturbing realization that someone had changed her clothes. She was now dressed in a simple woolen gown which covered her from head to toe. It was unsettling to think of someone first undressing, then dressing her while she had been unconscious. She took a closer look around the room, spotting another bunk parallel to her own over against the far wall. It was occupied. Trevor was sleeping there.  
Carefully, Claire examined the room. There was a small wash basin between the two beds. A white medicine cabinet was on the wall above it, marked with a red cross. The air smelled sterile, yet slightly salty. Everything she saw suggested some sort of hospital or medical ward. The walls were white and sparse, the designs of the beds, the cabinet, all sturdy and heavy looking, made evrything seem like they were decades old yet brand new. She didn't know what to make of all of it. Claire rose and moved across to Trevor, waiting silently over him.  
Trevor began to stir as she stood there, still groggy from his sleep. In a haze he noticed Claire watching him. For some reason he imagined he saw a curtain of bubbles rising between them. A phantom image, as if they were deep under water. But he shook his head and the image disappeared.  
"I'm sorry," Trevor said with a smile, "there must have been some sort of mistake. I specifically ordered the clothing-optional dream package. Where are your three naked clones? Did they go looking for the honey and whipped cream?"  
Claire wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a response. "Right now, instead of whipped cream, I'd be satisfied with the whip. Get up, Trevor," she said simply.  
"Well, I'm game if you-" Trevor stopped as he rose, finally noticing that he was also in different clothes. "Clairebear, you dressed me! I'll assume you didn't avail yourself to anything naughty while I was out. Here's hoping you didn't manage to sneak a peek..well, mostly."  
"Trevor, before you elbow a frat buddy in the ribs with pride, let me just say that I woke up here the same as you. In different clothes that I don't remember putting on. Just like you."  
"Sorry I brought it up. Disappointed?"  
She scoffed nervously. "Right. I bet I would have only been disappointed if I _had_ gotten a peek."  
Trevor rubbed his head. "Well I definitely don't share the sentiment. You getting dressed is one curtain call I would have liked to see. Where are we anyway?"  
Claire shook her head, looking around the room. "I don't know. That bitter old psychic you took us to must have forced us to pass out. She probably took our money and our clothes. We must still be at the carnival, in a first aid station or something..."  
Trevor nodded, but seemed confused as he looked at the wall behind her. "OK, Shirley Holmes. Answer me this. Why are we in a first aid station with round windows?"  
Claire turned around and noticed that he was right. She walked over and looked through the small opening. A diffuse light from outside touched her face. Her features dropped in shock at what she saw beyond the window.  
"Oh no, this can't be..." Claire whispered. "What has that crazy hag done to us?"  
"What is it? What do you see?"  
"Water. Lots and lots of water."  
"We're on a ship?"  
Claire threw her hands into the air, fed up and angry. "Oh, this is just great Trevor! Perfect! We've been kidnapped. Abducted to some exotic port. What's next? Sale to some horny Sheik from Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous? Remind me to thank you again for another fascinating day of what only you alone would call fun. To think I could instead be home working on my book. Oh no. Can't have that. You thought I needed to get out. 'Let's go to the carnival', you said. 'It'll be fun', you said. And in a bout of insanity, I agreed. So instead I'm here. Living out a bad scene from a tv movie of the week!"  
"Well, if you had just agreed to go on the rollercoaster like _I_ wanted to..."  
Claire snapped at him. "Life's too short to hop on every rollercoaster you come across, Trevor."  
Trevor smiled back. "Life's too short not to, Claire."  
A stubborn look crossed her face as she looked at the room. "Well, one thing I know for certain. I'm not staying here waiting for whatever they have planned for us. They've probably locked the door, so we'll have to bust it down with-" Claire darted over and turned the doorknob. It opened easily. "Or not," she said surprised. Slowly Claire opened the door and stepped into the hallway beyond.  
Trevor began searching the inner pockets of the coat he wore. He pulled out several papers and began leafing through them. There were several personal items, belonging to someone named Mr. Collins. His hands stopped suddenly on a worn black and white photograph. It showed him and Claire standing in front of some run down house in the country that he had never seen. Lush green hills rolled into the distance behind it. They were both in each other's arms, happy, smiling. He moved to the next item, a small stub of paper like a boarding pass or ticket. His face froze when he read it.  
"Um, Claire... could you come back in here please?"  
The door opened and Claire walked in slowly, in a daze. She was carrying something, a large white life-saver of the type found on ships. There was bold lettering imprinted along the hoop's edge. In disbelief, Claire watched Trevor as he read it.  
  
R.M.S. TITANIC  
  
They stared at each other in shock for several seconds.  
"Oh... my..." Claire said softly.  
"-god." Trevor finished.  
Suddenly one of the ship's nurses bustled into the room, moving quickly around Claire. She seemed oblivious to both their stunned expressions. Cheerfully she stood between them, seeing nothing out of place.  
"Well it's nice to find the two of you up and about. I'm your nurse, Violet Jessop." The woman spoke in a lively British accent. Her face exuded the kindness of someone who loved her work. And though no longer considered young, she still moved and spoke with the energy of youth.  
"It seems you both had a bit of a fainting spell earlier," she continued, turning occasionally to look at them both. "But it's good to see the two of you on your feet again. How are you feeling?" She waited expectantly for Claire to speak.  
Claire paused, bouncing a finger in mid-air as she considered it. "Wait, this... this can't really be happening."  
The nurse misunderstood. "Oh don't you worry about that," she said lightly. "It happens quite a bit to people who aren't used to sea voyages. Passengers pass out all the time on other ships I've tended. I must say it was a bit of a strange thing in both your two cases. Most reactions aren't so deep or so sudden as the ones you two had. The doctor didn't know what to make of it, to be honest."  
Trevor looked up. "We were on this ship earlier? Walking around?"  
Violet nodded. "Until you passed out and were brought here."  
It was beginning to dawn on Violet that the two of them were... confused. They both stared at her like she was a phantom. Violet glanced down at the life saver Claire was holding with a concerned look. Why was she carrying that? Now that she thought about it, they were both acting strangely. Perhaps the two of them hadn't fully recovered after all. With slow movements, she reached for the life saver, not wanting to upset Claire if she wasn't feeling well.  
"It's alright love," Violet said in soothing tones. "There will be no need for that. Try not to worry yourself. It was just sea-sickness. Besides, this is quite a sturdy ship. Best in the fleet. Better than the Olympic, and I served there for a time. Some even say this ship's unsinkable, but I wouldn't know of such things." As she spoke she calmly removed the life preserver from Claire's hands and placed it under her arm. She looked at both of them again with a more clinical eye as they stared at her, speechless. "Are you sure you're feeling well?" she asked.  
"I suppose we're not quite feeling ourselves," Trevor said cautiously. "Unfortunately we're not feeling each other either."  
The nurse laughed. "Oh, Mr. Collins. I've heard of how you carry on so."  
Trevor's eyebrows lifted. "Mr. Collins? I'm... Mr. Collins?"  
"Yes, of course. What else would I call you?"  
"Some people like to call me Trevor. Although it's not what _I_ prefer."  
"Really? What name do you prefer?"  
"Well I've always liked Cu-"  
Claire interrupted him before he could finish, waving him silent.  
"Trevor will do fine. Excuse me, but... how did we get here?"  
Violet looked at her, puzzeled, as if she were asking obvious questions. "Why you purchased tickets. Most likely boarded at Southampton I imagine."  
Behind Violet, Trevor held up the two boarding passes he had found, waving them for Claire to see. Claire looked back to the nurse.  
"And well, how do I put this..." Claire decided to ask straight out. "Who are _we_ again?"  
The nurse eyed her warily, more concerned by Claire's apparent lack of memory. "Mr. and Mrs. Collins, of course. Are you feeling well?"  
Trevor couldn't stop his grin as he enjoyed the expression spreading on Claire's face. Her lips hung in shock.  
"Wa-.. wait," she sputtered. "Wait a second. Did you just say Mr. and Mrs.-"  
"Collins, yes." The nurse finished for her.  
Trevor glanced down at his hand and noticed he had a wedding ring on his finger. "Well I'll be matrimonied." He held it up for Claire to see and raised an amused eyebrow.  
Seeing Trevor's ring, Claire looked down to find one on her finger as well. The sight of it was the final straw. She had seen enough. "Ok, that does it! Just what are you trying to pull, Trevor?"  
"Don't look at me Claire. For the first time in three thousand years, I'm as clueless as you."  
"Yeah right. Like I believe that for a second."  
Trevor sighed, feeling a lecture coming. "It's a suprise to me too. Why are you blaming me? I didn't have anything to do with this."  
"This has got to be some plan of yours, Trevor. You're probably in cupid-cahoots with that bitter old psychic back where we were."  
"Oh sure. I managed to reconstructed an entire 1912 luxury liner on a bartender's salary..."  
The nurse watched the two of them as they continued to argue and she felt her concerns ease somewhat. She asked with a smile, "So it seems you've been married for a while?"  
Trevor and Claire turned to her and spoke in unison. "We're not married!"  
Violet nodded. "I understand. My sister always had the same angry spats with her husband. Argued all the time. They weren't married almost once a week."  
Claire turned on the nurse. "Look, to think that I'd be married to this egotistical-"  
Trevor decided to play his part. "Now, honey! Be nice."  
"-self serving, pig headed, delusional-"  
Trevor turned to the nurse. "We fight," Trevor poked at fake tears in the corners of his eyes, "It tears me up, but you know trying love can be..."   
"-interfering, busybody, aggravating, ulcer-inducing-"  
"Sweetie, can't we all just get along?"  
"-one word from me and he's in a mental ward, manipulative....man!"  
Trevor only seemed offended by the last. "Man?"  
Claire darted towards him. "I said man!" Violet chuckled to herself as she held Claire away from Trevor. Trevor smiled like he always did when he got her to lose her composure. Claire stalked away from the nurse as if she were going to a neutral corner.  
Trevor leaned in to whisper to Violet. "I apologize for my wife. She gets like this about _this_ time of the month... if you understand."  
The nurse turned instantly to stop Claire again. Behind Violet, Trevor looked with mirth into Claire's face and realized he had teased her enough. He raised his hands in surrender and mouthed _I'm sorry_ to her silently. But he still kept smiling.  
Claire seemed to accept his apology and she began to calm down. This wasn't the time or place for an argument with Trevor. Considering she wasn't even certain what this time or place really was.  
The nurse stood between them. "Well. I sincerely hope you recover the use of your faculties along with your tongues."  
Trevor nodded. "Yes, we're feeling much better. It was just a brief disagreement, nothing to worry about. We always make up later. Sometimes twice. " He turned towards Claire. "I'm sorry I upset you, honeybuns. Hugs and kisses..." he held his arms out to her.  
Her expression said it all. "Don't push it, Trevor."  
The nurse touched each of their foreheads for a final check of their temperatures. Feeling nothing wrong, she was all smiles and cheerfulness again. "Well, you don't have any fever. And the doctor has instructed me that you are both free to go back to your berth, if you would like. I believe the cabin number should be listed on your tickets. I may be by later to check on your conditions. If you'll wait here, I'll get a steward to lead you back." With that Miss Jessop left the small white room, leaving the two of them alone.  
Trevor came closer. "Ok, all kidding aside, Claire. What do you really think is going on?"  
"I don't know. But-" Claire knocked on a bulkhead, it rang solidly under her knuckles, "-there's no way this can be what it seems."  
Trevor rolled his eyes. "Why can't you just accept something on face value for once..."  
She spoke with conviction. "We are not on the Titanic, Trevor."  
"You're absolutely right."  
Claire looked at him, surprised. "Thank you, Trevor. I didn't expect you to agree."  
"Technically we're _in_ the Titanic."  
She shook her head. "Well, wherever we are Trevor, it can't really be what it looks like."  
The small door opened and they saw the steward waiting in the hallway outside. He looked at both of them. "This way, please."  
Claire walked out with Trevor right behind her. He spoke over her shoulder.  
"You know, Claire. If you really don't believe any of this is real I could test it and pinch you."  
"Don't you dare!" she said instantly. "I know where you'd pinch."  
  


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	3. memory like water page 3

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The ship was huge. As they followed behind the ever patient steward, Claire and Trevor looked all around them, eyes full of wonder and disbelief at what they were seeing. The thin corridor bustled with people dressed in the clothing of the period. Passengers were walking back to their cabins, ship's crewmen were carrying linens or food on trays to various destinations. Apparently it was near the lunch hour, or just past. The deck flooring felt solid under their feet. Around them the colors were vibrant and rich from new paint. The three of them slowly made their way aft, rising one deck via a small spartan staircase reserved for the crew. At its top, they passed a small surgical bay on their left before moving through a door into the covered second class promenade. Ocean stretched away to their left, visible through the windows. The steward opened another door before them, and they walked around a stepladder into the open air.  
Above their heads, an overcast sky was beginning to clear. The distant sounds of seagulls could be heard. Trevor and Claire followed the steward onto the ship's aft well deck. In a daze, Claire stopped and turned, looking up.  
"This is impossible," she said breathlessly.  
Looking back the way they had just come, Claire's eyes travelled up the structure rising there. Above the door they had exited stretched the rest of the ship. The railings of two upper deck promenades were just in view. Followed by the top boatdeck where the lifeboats were moored, their interiors covered by white canvas stretched tight. Then, towering over all, the aftmost of the ship's four massive funnels, a thin haze of black smoke rising from the three funnels behind it into the still air.  
Claire shook her head, but the image didn't go away. A thin breeze touched her face as it flowed across the well deck. Beside her, Trevor looked around, his arms straight out from his sides as he turned and appreciated the sight. He didn't seem to be having as hard a time with what he saw as Claire was having. As he looked over at her, he noticed her expression and realized Claire wasn't really accepting what was arrayed before her. Seeing that the steward still waited patiently, Trevor moved over to him.  
"Thank you, fine sir," he said lightly. "You're a good man. But I think we can find our way back from here. I, uhhh... I remember where our berth is now. We'll go the rest of the way ourselves." Trevor patted him on the back, trying to convince him they would be fine alone.  
Calmly, the steward looked at Trevor, considering it. He saw no harm in leaving them there since they were already in the section reserved for third class. "Very well, sir." The steward walked smoothly across the deck, opening the door they had exited, and disappearing into the ship.  
Trevor walked back to Claire, who was still trying to grasp what she saw. "OK Trevor," she said. "This has got to all be in our heads..."  
"Well, you're the pro-level player of mind games, Claire. What do _you_ think this is?"  
Claire nodded to herself. "A carefully crafted illusion. And I have to admit, its a good one. She's not bad."  
Trevor blinked. "What?"  
Claire looked at him. "That psychic lady. She touched us. On the forehead. Then we passed out. A little bit convenient, don't you think? And when we came to, we were here. You said it yourself, Trevor. She's a hypnotist. Who's to say we're not under hypnosis right now?"  
Trevor smiled. "Hypnosis? Like those cheesy stage shows? Wow. You're cute when you're paranoid. Of course, you're cute when you're not. But you could be right. In fact..." Trevor suddenly got a strange look on his face, staring off into nothing.  
"Trevor?" Claire looked into his eyes, concerned.  
Trevor shook his head. "I'm getting a feeling..." His voice sounded distant.  
"Trevor, what is it?"  
Trevor touched his forehead as his shoulders dropped. "I think I'm..." He paused... before suddenly breaking into a chicken walk, flapping his arms and squawking.  
Claire let whatever concern she felt evaporate in an instant. Rolling her eyes, she grunted in exasperation as she turned away. She knew when she was being made fun of.  
Behind her, Trevor continued. "Come on, join in Claire. It's fun."  
"Trevor..."  
He finally stopped, smiling at her. "Something like that, right? Really, Claire, hypnosis? Get real. It can barely make you imagine small animals, let alone an entire environment."  
Claire could see she would get no where trying to convince him. "Forget it, Trevor." She spun and walked off. Trevor followed behind her as she walked over to the port railing.  
"Claire, lighten up a little. If we're hypnotized, why not have fun with it? Look, I'll clap my hands three times... we'll see if you have the sudden urge to take off all your clothes." He clapped and stared at her expectantly, getting only a glare from her in response.  
Trevor shook his head. "Why don't those subliminal suggestion tapes I play in your bedroom while you're sleeping ever work?" He shrugged. "Oh well. Worth a shot."  
Claire looked out over the ocean, doing her best to ignore him. She looked down at her hand as she held the railing, and felt it real under her hands, real under her wedding ring.  
Trevor turned and rested his back against the railing as he stood beside her. "Hey, I think I know what will get us out of this. How about we try clicking our heels and saying... _there's no place like Rome, there's no place like Rome._"  
"Sorry, Trevor. That's more you're delusion."  
"Maybe. Or maybe it's follie a deux, a madness shared by two."  
Claire looked around. "We're still in that carnival tent, Trevor. That old woman has us hypnotized and is feeding us a narrative of all this. She's the one making us think we're really here. That's the only possible explanation. And I... I think I know how to get us back."  
Trevor looked away from her, amused. "You see delusions everywhere Claire. Occupational hazard." When he looked back, Claire was gone. For a split second, he wondered is she had been right. Turning, he saw her walking away behind him, determined. Trevor darted to keep up.  
There was a group of passengers clustered on the aft part of the ship, one level up from where they were. Claire climbed the stepladder up to them with Trevor right behind her. Amid the clutter of white funnels and machinery were several wooden benches, half filled with passengers enjoying the sea air. More of them stood at the ship's railing, looking overboard at something. A male steerage passenger stood nearby, and Claire walked straight up to him. She grabbed his shoulders firmly and looked straight into his eyes.  
"Excuse me," the man began to say in a polite voice. "Do I know-."  
"Hi. I'm Claire." She laughed nervously. "And you're not real." She let go of the confused man and began searching for another one. Trevor gave the man an apologetic look as he followed, coming up beside her.  
Trevor spoke under his breath. "Claire what are you doing?"  
"Breaking the illusion." She grabbed a woman walking by. "Hello, you're not real."  
Several passengers nearby began to give her strange looks. Trevor tapped her shoulder. "Umm, Claire? People are starting to look at you like your crazy."  
"You're one to talk, Trevor. Besides, it's not crazy to ignore the opinions of imaginary people." Clare caught the gaze of one woman staring. Undeterred Claire called out to her, waving a hand. "Hello imaginary figment. You're not real!"  
Claire moved towards the center of the crowd. One woman sat alone on one of the benches, oblivious as she stared into the distance, totally engrossed in watching somebody else. As Claire moved past her, it caused the woman to look up. Trevor behind and stopped beside the seated woman, watching as Claire weaved through the cluster of passengers at the railing, going person to person. He could just make out her voice from where he stood.  
"Hi, I'm Claire Allen. Just reminding you that you're just inside my head... Excuse me, ma'am? I'm sorry. Your not real either. Umm, Sir? Pardon me, yes. I wanted to express my absolute conviction that you're not-... Well, it doesn't really matter what you have to say about it, because you're still not. Not in the slightest. Sorry to disappoint you. Hey. You over there... yes, you. You're not real. And neither are you..."  
Trevor sighed as he watched. The seated woman beside him looked up and seemed to recognize him. "Mr. Collins?"  
Trevor turned. She had used the same name that the nurse had called him by. "You know me?" he asked.  
"Of course. It's me. Eileen, from the common room last night. I saw you a little earlier today. We were all very concerned when you and Mrs. Collins passed out this morning." Eileen looked over at Claire. "Is Mrs. Collins still not feeling well?"  
"Not... really."  
Over by the railing, the rest of the passengers were starting to give Claire a wide berth. She spun around as she called out to the sky. "All in my head! Only explanation! I will not percieve this as real!"  
Trevor looked back at the woman. "You'll have to forgive Mrs... Collins, did you say? She's still a little," he searched for a kind way to put it, "...distracted."  
Eileen nodded and looked aft again, but not at Claire. Curious, Trevor followed her gaze.  
Standing alone at the railing was a handsome man, looking forlornly out over the sea. He was the person Eileen was watching. And as Trevor watched her watch him, he saw that she had eyes for no one else on that deck. Trevor smiled, seating himself next to her. "I'm Trevor, by the way. Assuming I didn't tell you that last night." Trevor looked away and muttered to himself under his breath. "And assuming that was actually me..."  
"Trevor?" she repeated, somewhat surprised by that name.  
He agreed with her sentiment."Know exactly how you feel. So. I noticed you're sitting here all alone. Have to say I'm shocked. Someone as attractive as you without romantic... encumberance."  
Eileen shoulders shook silently from gentle laughter. She looked away with a blush. As Trevor sat there, he noticed the man at the railing sneaking a quick glance at the two of them. Once his eyes met Trevor's, he looked quickly away, embarrassed.  
Trevor nodded. This would be easy. He leaned closer to Eileen, speaking in a soft but encouraging voice. He nodded towards the man at the rail. "You know, it's been my experience that most conversations actually go better within touching distance. I mean, eye tag can be fun, but trust me on this. Why aren't you over there talking to him?"  
"Who?"  
Trevor tilted his head as he waited, smiling. He didn't even bother to look over at the man since they both understood who he referred to. Eileen's face looked panicked as she realized that.  
"Oh, I couldn't..."  
After finishing her circuit of the crowd, Claire walked back to Trevor. "Come on, Trevor." She said. "She's not real either so stop talking to her and let's get moving." Eileen gave her a strange look, but Claire didn't seem to care.  
"Sorry, no offense intended. You're just not," Claire said.  
Eileen turned to Trevor. "What's wrong with her?"  
Trevor smiled. "Do you want a list? Well, in a nutshell... she's a nut. A kinky one too. Here, let me explain." Trevor leaned in and whispered into Eileen's ear for several seconds. Her eyes widened at what he was telling her.  
"Oh my! Why I've never heard of... You mean only when she's-" Eileen put a hand to her mouth, covering a smile. "I think I see, Mr. Collins."  
Trevor gave one satisfied laugh and stood up. Claire hadn't really noticed, instead she seemed engaged in some sort of self-help verbal affirmation. "I'm not insane, I'm not insane..." she whispered with her eyes closed, but not so sure she believed it. She was trying everything, it seemed. Trevor turned back to Eileen. "See what I mean?" He said, before facing claire again. "Excuse me, Claire? Why haven't you questioned whether I'm real? Maybe I'm in your imagination too."  
Pausing only for a second, Claire looked at him from the corner of one eye. "It would explain so many things about the the past years. But I'm not that lucky."  
Trevor turned back to Eileen, standing before her. "Trust me, Eileen. You really want to go talk to him. She who hesitates, buys batteries. Well, I guess we'll be going. I'm sure there are more people for Claire to offend further forward. See, she needs to convince them they're not real too because they have the annoying habit of not convincing themselves. Well, maybe one or two on Public Access television."  
Trevor suddenly stopped as he gazed past Eileen, inadvertently looking off the side of the ship. He saw something he hadn't expected to see. Coastline. A lush expanse of rolling green hills, not more than two miles away, dotted with buildings clustered around a harbor. Now that he looked around more closely he noticed that the ship hadn't been moving. Both he had and Claire had been so caught up in finding themselves there that neither of them had noticed.  
"Excuse me, Eileen. Where... are we exactly?"  
"Anchored off Queensborough, Ireland. Some small tender boats have been ferrying in the last of the mail and passengers from shore before we head out into the Atlantic." She pointed to the row of spectators along the railing. "They'll be leaving in a few minutes and the crowd there is waiting to see them off."  
Trevor thought. "Tenders? Still moored to the ship?"  
"Yes, along the side. Further forward near the bridge."  
Claire could see that Trevor was up to something. She looked at him. "Trevor, what are you doing?"  
He ignored her. "Eileen, what's the date?"  
"Umm, Thursday, the eleventh day of April."  
Claire didn't understand why he was so worked up. "Trevor, what's going on?"  
"Thursday," Trevor said, lost in thought. "Three and a half days until... You said the tenders will be going back to shore, right?"  
Eileen nodded. "I believe so."  
"Trevor, I want to know what-" Claire began.  
"Thank you Eileen," Trevor said quickly. He darted over to Claire and grabbed her arm, dragging her away at a run. She was barely able to keep on her feet as she was forced to run beside him, surprised by his sudden urgency.  
"Trevor! Why are we running? Where are we going?"  
He ran to the rail and pushed through some passengers there. Leaning out, he looked forward along the ship's side. Then he saw it. A small tug-like boat was nestled along the ship's side with a wooden walkway leading into an opening in Titanic's hull.  
Trevor turned to Claire. He saw their chance. "I'm saving our lives, Claire! Come on!"  
  


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	4. memory like water page 4

  
  


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Grabbing her arm, Trevor began to run towards the front of the ship. Claire tried her best to match his speed as she was dragged along behind him. She had no idea where Trevor was taking her, but she followed him anyway. The grip of his hand on her arm gave her little choice.  
After dropping to the aft well deck, they darted across to the door the steward had brought them out of earlier. Opening it, they passed into second class and together they dived into the ship's interior.  
Moving quickly, Trevor dodged as passengers and crew passed in a confused blur. Methodically, they made their way forward, after many abrupt halts from walls and dead ends, unfamiliar with the ship's layout. After a few minutes, they found themselves speeding down a long straight hallway. Up ahead a familiar figure watched them approach.  
Nurse Jessop turned as she saw them, her mouth opening to speak. They raced past without stopping. Concerned, she called after them. "Mr. Collins! Is there something wrong?" She got no response as they left her behind.  
Trevor and Claire crossed into another third class section near the front of the ship. He began to look for ladders and stairwells which led to the decks beneath them. Deep inside Trevor knew he was probably being foolish, overreacting to what was most likely an elaborate mirage. But what if by some unexplained event they really were on Titanic? What if it were all real? He couldn't take that chance. They had to get off the ship, and the tender moored to Titanic's side was their last option before they quite literally hit the open ocean. It was now... or never.  
As Trevor continued to drag Claire behind him, they scrambled down into what the signs listed as 'D' deck. He did a quick scan. There was no loading activity, no open hatchway. He paused, thinking.  
Beside him, Claire tried to catch her breath. "Trevor, now maybe you can explain to me just what you think you're-"  
Without answering, Trevor yanked her into motion again. He sped around behind the steps they had just descended to find the next flight leading down. They both scrambled quickly down to 'E' deck.  
As he and Claire came to a stop on the next landing, Trevor noticed it. There was a bright glow of daylight from around the corner. Darting past, he saw a rectangle of light down a hallway. Trevor ran towards it like it was salvation. Two of the ship's officers were there with some crewmen, overseeing the now complete transfer of mail and passengers. Stretching between the ship and the tender was a long wooden gangway with waist high railings. It was attached to the tender itself, and to Trevor's horror it began to rise into the air as he approached, swivelling up and back to the tender.  
"Wait!" Trevor called out. "Wait! We're getting off!"  
The two officers turned at the sound of his voice. One leaned out of the hatchway to call to the tender. "Hold! We have two more disembarking!" The officers waited impatiently, eager to finish their task.  
Trevor came up to them and breathed a sigh of relief as the gangway began to lower, settling once again upon Titanic's deck. All smiles, he bounded out onto it and into the open air. The wooden planks rattled underneath his feet. Above him, the dark mass of the side of the ship loomed like a shadow. Suddenly he stopped, looking back when he realized he no longer held Claire's arm. Claire stood silently at the hatch, refusing to budge.  
Trevor couldn't believe his eyes. "Claire, come on!"  
"No," she said stubbornly.  
"No?"  
Claire looked at the hatchway as if it represented some boundary she refused to cross, a reality she refused to accept. "We can't leave, Trevor."  
"Are you insane?"  
"Trevor, I will not give in to this... this whatever this is. Not one part of it. Because none of it is real. If we run away, we're accepting this as an actual ship that's destined to sink. We'd be diving deeper into the delusion, and I'm not going to do it."  
Trevor pleaded. "Claire please, just get off the ship!"  
"No, Trevor."  
The officers at the hatch heard this exchange and gave each other a look, realizing something was odd. One called out to where Trevor stood. "Excuse me, sir? I'm Second Officer Lightoller. I'm afraid I'm going to have to see your tickets."  
Reluctantly, Trevor walked back after a few seconds. With a weary sigh he stepped back across the threshold. Reaching into his pockets, he leafed through the papers until he found both of their tickets, handing them to the second officer.  
Mr. Lightoller looked down and read the stubs. "Hmmm. Your tickets show your debarkation point as New York, not Queenstown. Why do you want to get off here?"  
Trevor looked over at him and felt the urge to scream out what he knew was going to happen. But as he glanced at Claire she looked away, trying to seem disinterested. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the smallest fear that maybe she was wrong, that maybe they should leave the ship. But he could also see that in spite of that her mind was made up. Her arms were crossed firmly on her chest. She obviously wasn't coming. And Trevor wasn't going to leave her. Looking over, he realized Lightoller was still waiting for an answer. Trevor did his best to give him one.  
"There's no... no reason." Trevor stepped fully into the ship and away from the hatch. "We just had a bout of sea-sickness and we didn't think we would be able to finish the voyage." Trevor looked at Claire, his expression subdued.  
Lightoller nodded slowly, seeming to understand. "Don't you worry, sir. You'll get your sea legs under you in a day or two. Then you'll hardly notice. We'll endeavor to give you a smooth voyage. Strange. Most passengers can't feel the ocean's swell at all on a ship of this size."  
Trevor tapped the second officer's shoulder with his hand. "Hope you're right..." As he moved over to stand by Claire, Lightoller gave him a curious look, picking up on Trevor's somber mood. Without another word to the two of them, he turned and nodded to the ship's fourth officer standing next to him.  
"Very well, Mr. Boxhall. Send them off."  
Boxhall leaned out of the hatch and called out to the tender, before stepping back into the ship. Trevor's eyes followed as the gangway rose off Titanic's deck, angling upward, pulling back to the tender. The two officers stepped back from the hatchway as crewman in dark uniforms and berets labeled _White Star Line_ pulled the hatchway closed, plunging them into darkness with a thud.  
Trevor and Claire walked slowly to the aft railing at the very back of the ship. A British flag waved off the stern, flapping in the afternoon light. The ship was under way again, and a frothy white wake stretched into the distance behind them as they steamed towards open sea. Trevor watched silently as the coast of Ireland began to receed into a thin line.  
Claire turned from the sight and leaned against the railing. As she watched Trevor a cool wind danced through her hair. She looked away, her arms still crossed before her. They both said nothing for several seconds. Trevor glanced at her with a worried smile. She could tell he was upset.  
"Trevor, you actually believe this is real, don't you? And now because of that you're mad at me."  
"No," Trevor said, looking out over the ocean. "I'm not mad. How could I be? You've always believed what you believe."  
She looked into his face. "You really did want to get off the ship. Why?"  
Trevor gave her a look. "Why do I want to get us off the Titanic, that's a tough one. Hmm. I don't know. Because we don't have gills?"  
"Trevor, this is all in our heads."  
"You don't know that for certain. We're taking quite a gamble. What if this is one of our past lives? What if it's exactly what it seems and we're really here living it?"  
"The god of love with past _mortal_ lives? Explain how you could even entertain that thought, Trevor."  
"I can't. Not really. But I could have been forced to forget this life just like that psychic lady said. You don't know the other gods like I do. They can be a little bit... flighty."  
"You amaze me, Trevor. You believe you're a god. Yet when someone presents you with something contradictory to that belief, you just... find some way to incorporate it. So let me see if I understand this. The gods have made you mortal more than once... but they didn't let you remember any of it till now? That's what you believe is happening?"  
Trevor sighed. "I'm not saying I _do_ believe it, Claire. I'm saying I could believe it."  
"I don't know, Trevor. If you have a past life, maybe it's just because you're," Claire looked at him, "only _human_ after all."  
"See, now you're the one talking crazy." He smiled.  
Claire saw that his mood was lightening, and hers did too. "Well, there's something to be said for persistence, Trevor. I believe the clinical term is obsessive compulsive."  
Trevor looked her over. " Someday I'd love to show you the compulsions I'm obsessed about. But what I'm saying now is that that boat may have been our last chance out of this."  
"That boat would have pushed us deeper into the delusion, Trevor. The more we think of this as real, the harder it will be to finally see that it's not."  
"Then why are we still aware, Claire? How many delusions function when the patient knows he's delusional?"  
"None. That's my point. That is how we get out of this, Trevor. We may still have some awareness because the hypnotism didn't completely work..."  
"Assuming it _is_ hypnotism..."  
"Of course it's hypnotism, Trevor."  
"Now who's finding it easy to incorporate something into their beliefs," he teased.  
"Trevor, it could be potentially dangerous to see any of this as real."  
Trevor touched her hand. "Feel this railing, Claire. It's cold. That's wind blowing through your hair. I can feel the slight vibration of the engines through the deck plating. I can smell the funnel exhaust. The sunlight feels warm on my skin! How do you explain all that?"  
Claire seemed reluctant. "Well... so. It's a very good illusion." She gave him a look of certainty. "But if there's one thing I've learned Trevor, it's that some people can believe just about anything."  
"And some can't believe anything else, Claire. We didn't just drop on deck today out of nowhere. The people here have known us for several days. They all think we're Mr. and Mrs. Collins who boarded yesterday at Southampton."  
Claire looked away. "Trevor, you can refuse to accept your real identity all you want, but don't expect me to slide down the same delusional slope." She took a breath and looked back towards him. "Let's see If I can get this into your head." She leaned over and yelled into his ear for emphasis. "I'm Claire! You're Trevor!" Leaning back, she spoke in a normal tone. "Doctor. Patient. Period. I thought we went through this already when we met?"  
Trevor smiled as he reached into his pocket and brought out the small black and white photograph he had looked at earlier. Silently he handed it to Claire. Skeptical, she took it from him. The photo's edge shook slightly in the breeze as she held it. Looking down, Claire couldn't believe her eyes.  
It was the two of them. The image was hazy from poor camera quality instead of age, but she could see both of their faces clearly. Their arms were around each other in the photo and she was smiling as Trevor kissed her cheek. They stood in front of a run down old house, a lush countryside of low, green hills rolling away in the background. Their fingers were intertwined, two wedding rings almost touching. The same two rings they both now wore.  
"Wait... this is us,Trevor."  
He nodded. "Read the back."  
Claire flipped the picture over. "My life and my love, Honeymoon in England. April, 1912."  
She didn't quite know what to say. "Trevor, I..."  
He didn't hear her. His mind was already considering the situation. "What if we warn the crew? Avoid the collision? Change history a little bit. So what if there's one less movie that makes a gazillion dollars."  
"You just won't give up." Claire smiled to herself quietly. She realized he wasn't going to accept her point of view and decided to try a different approach. An approach he could believe.  
"Trevor, don't you believe in fate?"  
"Sure. Three of them. Good old Cloe, Lachy, and Atry. Daughters of Ananke. Or someone else, maybe. None of the god's are all that eager to claim them. Very serious, very boring. Real downers at all of Bacchus's parties. Don't know why he always invites them. Absolutely no sense of humor."  
"Then what if they decided that this ship is _fated_ to sink, Trevor?"  
Trevor was taken aback. "I hadn't thought of that..."  
Claire pressed on. "Let me tell you a little story. It's about an author, Trevor. A man who considered himself a psychic, and claimed to write with inspiration from an 'astral writing partner'. What I'm sure you'd claim was one of the Olympian gods. Anyway, he wrote a fictional book about a ship that strikes an iceberg along her starboard side and sinks in the month of April. All the details were are almost exactly the same. That there were too few lifeboats, the passenger capacity, the power plant, hull dimensions... even the ship's name. _Titan_. Written 14 years before the sinking of Titanic. And it didn't make a differance in the end. just another ignored warning."  
"Well, there have always been oracles Claire."  
"Trevor, my point is that sometimes foreknowledge doesn't always change things."  
Trevor paused for a moment. "Like Cassandra." He said.  
"Exactly," Claire replied. "This man had the pain of foreknowledge without the ability to change things. He died poor, penniless. He was never a success. Titanic sank anyway. The book's title said it all. _Futility._"  
Trevor didn't understand. "So what are you saying?"  
"If you believe in old Cloe and the gang, then I don't think it would be wise to cross them. Then again, if this is all just an illusion, the less we interact with this environment the better our chances are of seeing it as an illusion. Either way, leaving things alone is our best chance of getting out of here."  
Trevor was silent, considering what she said. Finally he nodded. "For once you might be right Claire. Fate is the department of the Sisters Grim. I should stick to mine. " Trevor smiled again. He looked out over the ocean, realizing something. "We can only be who we are."  
"Exactly, Trevor."  
Trevor turned to her, knowing what he should do now. "Thank you, Claire. I feel better. I know what I need to do."  
Claire smiled at him as she gave him back the picture. She hated playing into his Cupid delusion, but she was more concerned about the delusion they were currently in.  
"I'm glad you see reason, Trevor."  
"I think I just reasoned that I'm... hungry, Claire. Where does someone go to get a meal in this delusion?"  
Claire was feeling hungry herself. "I suppose finding the mess hall wouldn't be giving in too much," she conceded. They both turned to go below decks when Trevor turned and looked back at the empty railing, staring at it for several moments.  
"Excuse me Claire. Could you hold on a second?"  
Claire felt a momentary panic when Trevor went back to the railing and stepped onto it's lower bar. Surely he wasn't planning to test her theory and jump, was he? She stepped cautiously back towards him as he stared out over the ocean, silent.  
Suddenly he spread out his arms and yelled. "I'M KING OF THE-!"  
Claire dragged him off before he could finish. Several passengers began to stare.  
"Sorry, Claire. I've always wanted to do that. Just couldn't resist." She saw the smile on his face. It was definitely the old Trevor she knew and loved... well, knew anyway. Still, she barely contained her own smile.  
Trevor spun in place. "It's time to live life, Claire! Can't spend every day worrying about icebergs. Maybe every other day. Or at least this Sunday. By the way, while we're here if you come across anyone sketching Kate Winslet nude, make sure you come and get me."  
"Better check your reality dipstick, Trevor. I think it's running a little low."  
"It's so much more fun when a pro checks it. Are _you_ busy later?"  
"Trevor, that statement's proof enough that you're low a quart."  
Their voices grew softer as they walked away from the railing. They moved down the stepladder to the aft well deck and out of view.  
The third class dining room was several decks down and in the middle of the ship. Trevor sat at a long, crowded table covered in white tablecloth, seated directly across from Claire. He tore enthusiastically into the meal placed before him, hardly looking up. In front of him, Claire had already eaten all she was hungry for.  
Trevor talked as he chewed. "You know Claire, for imaginary food this is pretty good." He noticed she had finished. "Can I have that?"  
Claire sighed as she pushed it across to him.  
"Trevor, I think I'll go back to our berth and see if I can find a change of clothes." She didn't want to, but getting out of this delusion was going to take longer than she thought, and she felt the need for at least some new clothes.  
Trevor mumbled around a biscuit, deciding to play up the whole husband thing. "Sure thing, sweetie. Try not to believe too much in what you're wearing. I know I won't. I'll be along later. That will give you the chance to heat the erotic rubbing oils for tonight." An older woman seated next to Trevor looked over in shock, having overheard.  
Claire said nothing. Instead she slowly leaned across the table in a fluid, seductive motion that caused Trevor to look up as she came closer, her lips parting... just before she thumped his forehead with her open palm, hard. The biscuit dropped from his mouth.  
"Just checking that everything's still working in there, Trevor." With a satisfied smile, Claire turned and left.  
Trevor picked up the biscuit again and took another bite, only somewhat embarrassed. He turned to the older woman.  
"Foreplay..." he explained, before diving into Claire's dinner as well.  


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	5. memory like water page 5

  
  


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Claire was back in their cabin, looking through the small porthole at the darkening ocean beyond as the evening fell. Her face looked sad, and she felt very far from home. The last month hadn't been an easy one for her, and finding herself today in this situation hadn't helped. She missed Frank, even though she didn't want to.  
Behind her the cabin door opened, and Trevor came noisily in. He clapped his hands in anticipation when she turned around.  
"OK, let's go." he said.  
"Trevor, if you think I'm going to rub oil on any part of-"  
"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about not staying cooped up in here."  
"Trevor, as I explained, we can't get involved with-"  
"And as I explained Claire, you're still in a little need of a lot of fun. You need to get out there and have a good time, illusion or not. Here, let me show you something."  
"Careful, Trevor. I know a lot of tender places to kick..."  
Hands on her shoulders, Trevor guided her over in front of the mirror. Together they looked into it, his face hovering next to hers. "Look at that face, very cute, a little pouty. All in all a good thing. Not to mention how good yours looks. Now. Tell me. What's wrong with this picture?"  
Claire wasn't really in the mood for this. "I don't know, Trevor. That you're in it?"  
"What's wrong is that the face that you're wearing is the exact same face I saw in Chicago. The exact same face that's been moping day after day. The exact same face that finally convinced me that you needed to be dragged to a street carnival for your own good. It's going to take some _fun_ to get you out of your funk. Fun you won't let me show you in here."  
"What makes you think I'm in a funk, Trevor?"  
"You've been in a funk ever since you broke up with Frank last month. The doctor I set you up with two weeks ago was just collateral damage. You didn't even try for a second date with Dr. Hunk-stein."  
"Well, you're wrong Trevor. I've just been... busy."  
Trevor nodded. "So busy you haven't found the time to move Frank's picture from where it's face-down on your dresser?"  
Claire looked over at him. "How did you..."  
Trevor shrugged. "I'm a god. Here's my bit of psyco-analysis. You're afraid to face that picture, Claire. And you won't get past this melancholy you're in until you do. So here of there, my goal is still the same. After dinner I went looking. There's a very noisy party near the bow in the third class open area, and I've booked us a connecting passageway. Feeling better about yourself is the first step, and what could make you feel better than being hit on by a bunch of drunken men from steerage. I'm busting you out of this cell, Claire. Cram some fun into your heart, and the self-esteem thing will follow. Or is that supposed to be a shot of whiskey? Either way, they have them both. Let's go cut a wooden rug."  
He began to push her to the doorway. Claire was reluctant. "Trevor, I don't really want to go and be-"  
"Course you do. Let's go have some fun. Unless you prefer being alone with me in small room all night." He smiled and waited.  
She saw his grin. "Drunken slosh fest it is then. Lead on." They both left the cabin.  
The brightly lit third class open area was bustling with people, all of which had come below decks when the night air above had grown colder. They stood together in small clusters, laughing and drinking over a backdrop of music from the impromptu set of musicians playing in the room's center. All in all, a relaxed and festive atmosphere.  
Trevor moved through them easily, a hopeful smile plastered across his face. He saw the almost boundless potential inside the room. There was nothing like a slow, boring voyage combined with alcohol and members of the opposite sex to help the mating ritual along. Throughout the years it had always been highly effective. And here he had found his fish barrel. It was time to aim and shoot. He walked up to someone.  
"My good man! I don't believe we've met. I'm Trevor Hale." His voice suddenly dripped with romantic implications. "Don't be alarmed but I just walked by this very cute, red-headed Irish rose who's been eyeing you like a fresh batch of haggis! That's a compliment by the way," Trevor paused,"I think..."  
Claire watched the crowd from across the room. She was seated on a bench along the far wall. As her eyes passed over the many passengers around her, they finally stopped on Trevor. Curious, she watched him closely as he moved from person to person. What was he doing? Trevor was back at the man he had just accosted and was pulling him to his feet. With a firm nudge he pushed the reluctant participant towards a redhead standing nearby. When the man finally spoke to her, her eyes lit up and she smiled warmly. Trevor nodded as if that were exactly what he had expected before he moved on. He quickly seated himself by a surly older woman, who seemed to only want to be left alone. Claire could just make out Trevor's voice in the crowd.  
"You had better watch yourself young lady," Trevor was saying. "A beautiful woman like yourself is a prime candidate for the many bachelors prowling this particular dating pool. So let's narrow the field a bit before we throw out some chum to the chums. Tell me what you like, and the room will provide..."  
Claire couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Trevor was being _Trevor_. She almost laughed. He was still trying to set up couples. Even here where there was no string of beads to his credit. Even when he was surrounded by what was most likely a two bit illusion from a second rate hypnotist. He still believed he was Cupid.  
Claire watched as the woman he was sitting next to asked him a question. Trevor didn't pause as he answered. "Who am I? I'm the god of love, doing a little field work. Just thought you might... hey, where are you going?" The woman had stood and left the moment he had answered. Trevor shrugged and got up again, looking for another victim.  
Claire shook her head. Trevor never let up, did he? She thought of the irony of the situation. A delusion within an illusion. As if he wasn't messed up enough already. Well, she had better head him off before she had to sweep up the pieces. Claire was just about to go over and stop him when another woman plopped down on the bench next to her, shoving a drink into her hands.  
"Good evening, Mrs. Collins. Why are you sitting here alone?"  
Claire looked over and recognized who it was. It was the woman Trevor had been talking to on deck that afternoon, just before he had tried to drag her to the departing tender. She was a young, vibrant woman. Brown hair cascaded down the side of her face. Her mouth held an easy smile. She seemed to be enjoying herself. The drink she held had definitely not been her first for the night. But as Claire looked closer she noticed something else. A sadness lingered behind her eyes, hidden deep. She was doing her best to put up a brave front, but Claire didn't need to be a psychologist to see it. Reminding herself where she was, Claire realized it was foolish to care about an illusion.  
"I'm sorry," Claire answered her question. "You must have mistaken me. I'm not Mrs. Collins. My name's Claire. Claire Allen."  
"Oh, right." the woman said lightly. "I forgot. I hope I didn't upset you." She leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't worry. Trevor told me about your _'condition'_."  
Claire tried to stay calm. "My _condition_?"  
"It'll be our secret. But if I may be allowed to say so, you and Mr Hale make quite an attractive couple."  
Annoyance hovered over Claire's face. "We're not a couple."  
"Whatever you say, Mrs. Colli-" the woman stopped herself. "Excuse me... Claire."  
Claire could see that the woman didn't believe her for a second. She gave her a level look. "I didn't get your name?"  
The woman seemed surprised. "My name? I told you that last night. I'm Eileen. Don't you remember?"  
"I suppose I don't." Claire said simply. "I guess it might have something to do with the fact that..." she laughed awkwardly, "Well, that your not a real person, to be totally honest with you."  
Eileen's laugh was real. "You and Mr. Collins must have had a deeper fainting spell today than we all thought." She didn't seem offended that Claire refused to accept her reality. Eileen did her best to emulate the festive mood in the room, but Claire knew better. Eileen continued. "Well don't you worry...umm, was it Claire today? I'll believe enough for the both of us." She patted Claire's hands, oblivious to the concern on Claire's face. Claire looked away and sipped her drink.  
Across the room Trevor had already moved on to his next target, a target he had been planning to get to all night, but hadn't talked to yet. It was the man Eileen had been watching on deck. Trevor walked straight up to him. "Hello again! I forget your name. Must have tipped back more mugs than I should have last night."  
The man recognized him. "Good evening, Mr. Collins. It's me, William. I do hope you are feeling better."  
Trevor lied. "William! Now I remember. I'm sorry, it just slipped my mind. How could I forget such a handsome hunkster such as yourself. I'm sure several of the women here aren't having the same problem."  
William seemed amused by Trevor's enthusiasm. "As usual, you tend to exaggerate Mr. Collins."  
Trevor laughed. "Funny thing. It's only an exaggeration until everyone believes it. My real name is actually Trevor Hale. Mr. Collins was just an alias."  
William blinked. "An alias? Whatever for?"  
"Well, my significant other over there," Trevor waved his hand across the room at Claire as he spoke in a whisper. "Pardon the expression, but she hates the term wife. Won't even acknowledge it, infuriates her. Anyway she has a _'condition'_. An embarrassing ailment of refusing to believe certain people are who they say they are. Olympus knows I've done my best for the little nutball, trying to find her what therapy I could. I'm a... a therapist myself actually. Sure. Umm, why not? That's how we met, until she won me over with her charms. But nothing I've tried has helped her. Now she's even taken to calling herself Claire Allen. Disturbing, isn't it?"  
William looked at Claire in a new light. "Hmmm."  
"Anyway, leeches, chemicals, body massage... nothing seems to work. So I'm transporting my 'patient' better half to Chicago for treatment from some very gifted specialists in the field of mental do-hickeys. Which... now that I think of it is loaded with irony." Trevor smiled, enjoying this too much. He had better reign himself in before his story got too elaborate.  
William took a drink of the beer he was holding. "It all sounds expensive. If you have the means for all that, why are you travelling third class?"  
"Well, Sparky over there is a little uptight about being recognized. Paparazzi, Entertainment Tonight, that sort of thing. We're trying to keep a low profile..."  
William nodded, not quite believing Trevor's story. "Well, she's quite beautiful, Mr. Hale. You're a very lucky man in any regard."  
Trevor smirked. "Not as lucky as you'd think. Claire's quite a handful. And not only in the good way. But since we're talking about getting lucky, let's talk about you. See that woman sitting next to Claire?"  
William pretended to take a closer look, even though Trevor knew he had been watching her all evening. As Trevor and William looked over, they noticed Claire and Eileen were watching the two of them as well. Eileen quickly looked away when she realized William was looking.  
Keeping up the act, William smiled as if recognizing her for the first time. "Ah yes. Eileen. You, uhh... tried to introduce us last night." By the tightening of Williams shoulders, the introduction hadn't gone well.  
Regardless, Trevor's face brightened. His previous persona, if so it was, had obviously had the same goals he did. Trevor continued his pitch. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. Claire tells me that Eileen over there is really into you."  
William didn't understand. "How could she possibly be _in_ me?"  
"Sorry, still getting this language thing worked out. I mean she's attracted to you. You know, she's thinking about you in that romantic, knocking boots sort of way."  
"Boots? She's a dancer?"  
Trevor smiled as he thought about it. "Of the best kind..."  
Across the room, Claire had noticed Eileen look away when the man Trevor was with had looked over. Still facing the crowd, Claire lowered her eyes as she spoke.  
"Can I ask you a question, Eileen?"  
"Certainly... Claire." Eileen forced herself to use Claire's new name.  
"Who was it that hurt you so?"  
Eileen was caught off guard for a moment. She let it pass, trying to cover it behind an unconvincing smile as she replied smoothly.  
"I don't know what you mean, Miss Allen."  
"Yes. You do. I can see it in your eyes. You try to hide it, but it's there. Maybe I can help. If you tell me about it." Claire looked at her, waiting.  
"I thought you didn't believe I was even real. Why would you want to help me?"  
Claire's smile was full of caring. "Because real or not, I can't stand idly by when I see someone in pain. Look... don't believe what Trevor told you. He likes to goof around, but his stories are just stories. I'm not insane. I'm totally lucid. And I think you need someone to talk to. I'm here, it might as well be me. I'm not going anywhere."  
Eileen continued to stare out into the crowd, not facing her. The room before them was a mass of people. The air was filled with laughter and music. But Eileen's face became serious. "That man, standing next to Trevor. I'd never met him until last night when Trevor introduced us. But when we tried to talk, I just couldn't. I don't understand why exactly... But I couldn't do it. And since last night... well, I never thought I would feel this way about anyone again." Eileen looked at Claire. "I haven't been able to get him out of my thoughts. Trevor caught me watching him up on deck this afternoon. I couldn't find it in myself to talk to him then either." She looked back at William. "I still can't."  
"Why? What is it Eileen?"  
"I just can't trust that he's attracted to me."  
Claire thought that was a strange choice of words. "Trust? You... don't think you can trust him." Claire realized there was an underlying problem that Eileen wasn't addressing. "Well, I'm no expert but it seems obvious to me that he's attracted to you. Sure, Trevor may be trying too hard to push you two together, but I wouldn't dismiss his instincts. He can be a pretty good judge of character sometimes."  
Eileen's laugh seemed empty. She turned to Claire. "What could he possibly see in me?"  
Claire tried to make her see. "You'll never know until you find out. Besides, you're very attractive. Why wouldn't he be interested?"  
Eileen didn't seem to believe it. She sighed to herself. "That's a good question. Why indeed."  
Standing in the crowd, Trevor was still trying to convince William. "So why don't you go over there?"  
"I don't know, Mr. Coll-... I mean... Mr. Hale. We had barely spoken before she found some excuse to leave last night. What makes you so certain she's interested in me?"  
"Radar love, baby."  
"I see. What's radar?"  
"Let's just call it perception. Come on. She's young, she's beautiful, she's in throwing distance. So throw her a line. She's a dam of pent up desire just waiting for you to open up the floodgates. Admit it. You sure wouldn't mind sharing a lifeboat with her, would you?"  
"I suppose. But we're basically strangers, Mr. Hale. I wouldn't know what to say." Trevor could see William was weakening even as he protested.  
Trevor pressed on. "Look, start out by just talking to her. The best erogenous zone on a woman is her heart. Tickle that and you tickle her soul."  
William smiled, caught up in it. "And how does one tickle that?"  
Trevor smiled back. "Be creative. Try a song, a poem... a dirty limerick."  
"I'll admit, Mr. Hale, that she has caught my eye on more than one occasion. But to just go up to her is so...so forward."  
"Hey! No one has ever claimed to find true love by mail-order. Well, not yet anyway. You have to physically go over there and make the first move to get anywhere."  
"But what would I say?"  
Trevor moaned. "Do I have to write you a script? Tell her she's beautiful. Tell her that she smells nice. Tell her that her scent reminds you of flowers from home. That her eyes glitter like moonlight on the ocean. Quote a poem. Sing a song. Plagiarize baby!"  
"A poem you say?" He and Trevor both looked over at Claire and Eileen.  
Trevor's face became thoughtful. He decided to get William started. "She walks in beauty, like the night..."  
William smiled when he heard it. He knew this poem. "...of cloudless climes and starry skies," he replied.  
Impressed, a smile pursed Trevor's lips as he nodded. Looking once at William, they both turned and continued to recite together, both watching Claire and Eileen.  
"And all that's best of dark and bright-"  
As they continued, Trevor's mind wandered. His eyes caught Claire's. She was watching him closely, and he realized she was curious about what he was doing. Somehow that made him feel better. As Trevor looked at her, with her eyes on his, he felt a warm sensation cross his chest. Trevor allowed himself to remember how beautiful she was, and the rest of the room seemed to fall away.  
"-meet in her aspect, and her eyes. Thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies..."  
Beside him, William stopped reciting when he noticed Trevor's reaction. Turning he saw the look on Trevor's face as he gazed at Claire with barely concealed adoration.  
Eyes still only for her, Trevor didn't notice as he continued. "One shade the more, one ray the less had half-impaired the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress..."  
It finally broke into Trevor's consciousness that he was the only one speaking, breaking his reverie. He found William looking at him knowingly.  
"It would seem Mr. Hale, that I'm not the only one who has found himself smitten here."  
Trevor smiled. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm just fond of the poem. I was a bit of a ghostwriter on it."  
"And you really believe a simple poem will work?"  
Now Trevor really was becoming exasperated. "Look, whatever works is whatever works! There's no set formula. If something bombs, try something else. Keep trying until you find something that moves her, touches her, makes her laugh. The functioning word here is _TRY_."  
William's face sobered up, as if he were about to admit something painful. "Mr. Hale, I'm just not ready. I just lost my-"  
Trevor thought he was stalling. Grabbing William by the shoulders, he began to push. "Less talk, more walk. We're going over there. Time to sink or swim, no pun intended. Just forget about the water, take a deep breath, and dive in. The lifeboats can wait."  
Claire moaned when she saw Trevor and William walk up to them. She was on the verge of getting Eileen to open up. Talk about unbelievably bad timing. Eileen wasn't in the mind set for Trevor's dating games. She was very vulnerable at the moment. And Claire could already see the scorch marks of a crash and burn forming. Beside her, Eileen stiffened as they walked up. Standing silently before the two women, William didn't seem much better. For the thousandth time since she had known him, Claire found herself wishing that Trevor would just butt out.  
Trevor didn't seem to notice. "Hello beautiful ladies. Hi honey." Trevor leaned in for a kiss but was stopped by a heated glare from Claire, who obviously wasn't in a joking mood. Smiling, Trevor pulled back, never tiring of rattling her cage.  
"Eileen," Trevor began. "William here tells me that he's from the same hometown as you. Where did you say that was again, William?"  
"Actually, I don't think I ever told you which-"  
"Great! The two of you should have a lot to talk about."  
Claire stood up angrily. "Trevor, could I talk to you?"  
Trevor recognized her tone. He had obviously boiled her hot buttons again. No doubt he was in for every excruciating detail of what she felt he had done wrong. But if it allowed Eileen and William to be alone together, he was all for it.  
"Excuse me," Trevor said. "I think I saw someone inventing Riverdance, and we're going over to toss him overboard. We'll be over there where-" Claire grabbed him and yanked him away.  
They walked out of ear-shot into a quiet corner of the crowd. Behind them, Eileen and William were still gripped in an awkward silence. Claire whirled on Trevor, her voice angry and soft.  
"Trevor, what the hell are you doing?"  
"I'm sorry, we must not have met." he said sarcastically. "I'm Cupid, god of love." He held out his hand in greeting.  
Claire batted it away, not amused. "Why are you interfering with these people's lives, Trevor?"  
"It's kinda what I do. I thought that was clear by now. Haven't you been paying attention the last few years?"  
"You're still trying to set people up?" Her voice was incredulous, trying to make him see the absudity of it.  
"Of course."  
"For what possible reason?"  
Trevor spoke as if it were as plain as the light of day. "Because... they really need it?"  
"Trevor, these people either exist only in our heads, or most of them will be dead in three days. That doesn't bother you?"  
"All the more reason to start early."  
She couldn't believe it. "You really don't care about these people's feelings, do you? You don't care that you're setting them up for what can only be heartbreak and loss. They may not know what's going to happen in the next few days, but you do! But you don't care what they might lose, that's secondary, isn't it? Everything is always secondary to your all-important mission. Why don't you think about somebody else for once."  
"I am. Their feelings are why I'm doing this. I don't see a string of beads anywhere, do you? This isn't about that, Claire. I'm trying to give them a little happiness-"  
Claire didn't want to listen. "Eileen is in a very vulnerable state right now! She's confused, she's unsure. And what she doesn't need is the self-proclaimed god of love force feeding here some new boy-toy. For that matter, William doesn't seem to be chomping at the bit either. Why can't you just leave things alone, Trevor?"  


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	6. memory like water page 6

A MEMORY LIKE WATER pg 6.   
  


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"Claire, these people don't have time to be left alone!"  
"That's exactly my point, Trevor. We don't know what's going to happen to them. But you still set them up without caring what knocks them down. This may be hard for you to understand, since you've never been in love. But for us mortals, losing someone you love... _hurts_. And that's something you've never experienced, Trevor. So maybe you shouldn't be so half-assed with your little plans when people's feelings are involved, alright?"  
Trevor felt angered by her accusations. He gave her a hard look. "We're still talking about Eileen, right?"  
Claire said nothing. She fixed him with a cold stare but kept her silence. Slowly she turned away, the conversation over as far as she was concerned. Trevor regretted saying it already, but it was too late to take it back. As she angrily walked off he called out to her  
"Wait, Claire. I'm sorry. Don't leave. I shouldn't have said-" She disappeared into the crowd, ignoring him. Trevor sighed in defeat, softly berating himself.  
"Great. Just great. Way to make her feel better..."   
Looking up, he glanced over at William and Eileen. William still seemed unable to find something to say. The unease in his stance emanated clearly for anyone to see. Eileen would have looked more comfortable having a tooth pulled. Without a word William nodded and began to back away... before turning and stalking off at a speed just short of a full fledged sprint.  
Trevor couldn't believe it. "Must be contagious."  
He darted over to intercept William, but was suddenly blocked by a drunken man who stumbled into him and spilled his drink. Trevor called out.  
"William! Wait, hold up! Where are you going?"  
William ignored Trevor completely before he too was gone, like Claire. Shaking his head, Trevor made his way over to where Eileen was still seated, her eyes on the floor in thought.  
"Hey, Eileen. What's up with the tag-team tandem retreats? First you last night, now him. Little clue, if you're tagged as 'it' you're actually supposed to go chasing after him..."  
Eileen looked up at him, her eyes on the verge of tears. "Thanks again for introducing me to William, Trevor. To think I could have sailed all the way to New York without all of... this." Eileen wiped at her eyes and got up, starting to walk away.  
"Wait. Talk to me, Eileen. What did he say wrong?"  
She stopped in the crowd and turned to him. "He didn't say anything, Trevor. Just silence. But that said it all..."  
As Eileen turned and left, Trevor threw his hands up in disgust. This just wasn't his night. He paused, placing his fists on his hips as he tried to make sense of it, his head low with disappointment. Around him, the boisterous room still hummed unabated, filled with music and laughing, drinking people. Trevor didn't really notice, lost in his thoughts. Until he felt a woman's hand on his shoulder and looked up.  
It was Nurse Jessop. Enjoying the party she looked over at him, the smile she had slowly dissipating as she read the expression on his face. "Mr. Collins? I came... looking to see if you were feeling better. Where's Mrs. Collins?"  
"She decided to call it a night early..."  
"I see. But you're both still feeling well? No relapses or fainting spells?"  
"No, none. And we are feeling better," he looked the way Claire had gone, "more or less."  
As Trevor turned back to Nurse Jessop, he saw the look in her eye and realized she had also come for other reasons. Trevor wasn't going to let the rest of the night go to waste. "Thank you again, Ms. Jessop. While I'm sure you're a very dedicated nurse, I doubt you came all the way down here just to check on me and Mrs. Collins." Trevor smiled as he took her by the shoulders, leading her into the crowd. "Who did you really come to see?"  
Nurse Jessop blushed. "Well... I suppose if I'm completely honest I might have hoped to run in to... well, John Priest."  
"See, I knew you had other motives. So. How do you know Mr. Priest?"  
She smiled. "We served on the Olympic together. He's a fireman, stokes the boilers with coal and such."  
"Hmm. You like the strong, burly working man types huh?"  
"No, where just friends. And since I know his shift ended hours ago, I thought he might be-"  
"Right down here." Trevor began to search the room. "Well. I'll see if I can track him down. No reason this night should be a total failure."  
"I don't understand."  
"Oh. Don't worry about it. Look, I'll go hunt down John-boy and bring him to you. He's probably here somewhere."  
"Why thank you Mr. Collins."  
Trevor moved off, stopping as he glanced at the stairwell Claire left on. Somehow the room seemed emptier with her gone. Several people bumped into him as they tried to squeeze by but his mind was elsewhere, thinking of Claire. Shaking it off, he began to search the room, looking over all the laughing faces. It didn't bother him that he didn't even know what John Priest looked like. It was only a minor detail, since he had a job to do.  
The next day, William looked ready to bolt the instant he saw Trevor. As Trevor approached, William's eyes widened and without a word he turned and walked back the way he had come, disappearing around a corner. Trevor walked faster to try and catch up to him. In spite of William's obvious reluctance, he called out.  
"Hey Willie! Willie boy! Where are you going?"  
Trevor turned the same corner but William was gone. He must have run the entire way to get out of sight so fast. Trevor couldn't believe it.  
"Mortals!" he muttered as he looked around, trying to decide which way to go. "Why do all you finite beings waste the most time?!"  
Nearby, Trevor saw the light dim across the passageway that led up on deck, as if someone out of view had just passed. He followed it up and outside into the crisp ocean air. He had reached the forward well deck. Climbing a stepladder up, he found himself near the front of the ship, on the raised forecastle just below the bridge. Looking forward he could see the Atlantic stretching to the horizon in the mid-day sun, a field of blue just beyond the bow. But no one was in sight.  
The deck was cluttered with obstructions. Massive chains for the anchors stretched between the metal nobs of capstans. Machinery for a pair of steam winches bracketed the ship's foremast, which rose into the air beside him. Trevor quietly walked past it, searching. As he looked around, the crow's nest hovered far above his head. Trevor didn't look up to see the lookouts moving up there. His only concern for the moment was William.  
Centered on the wooden deck was a large closed hatchway which rose a couple of feet off the planks, used to load the forward cargo bays. As Trevor stood there silently, he caught William looking around from behind it before ducking back. Trevor sighed. Why were humans so stubborn?  
Without a word, Trevor walked over to the hatch and seated himself around the corner from William. Leaning his back against its side, he rested his arms on his knees. Knowing he had been found, William didn't try to move away. He seated himself the same as Trevor on the adjacent side. They sat in silence as they listened to the sound of the wind and the hush of water breaking on the prow of the ship. Overhead the sun blazed brightly in a clear blue sky.  
Finally Trevor spoke. "So let's hear it, William. You're holding out on me. Holding back with Eileen. Why are you fighting this? And don't try to tell me she doesn't do it for you because we both know better. I've seen converging lava flows with less heat between them than you two. There's something else going on and I want to know what it is. Or... we could go ahead and run a few more laps around the ship."  
William looked over at Trevor, who's eyes were on the horizon. "Trevor, I don't see why it is any of your business. Why can't you just leave me alone."  
"Because you've been alone long enough. I see it when you look at her. Besides it's what I do. It's who I am...'  
"Really? You go through life trying to match up people with their true loves?"  
Trevor smiled. "Exactly. Pet peeve of mine. And... if the true love thing doesn't work out, I'll settle on getting you laid."  
Amused, William smiled back. "I'm honored you would call a woman spending the night with me, settling."  
"Sure. Settles people down all the time."  
"Regardless if that is or isn't true, why should I listen to you advice? What gives you such insight, Mr. Collins?" He corrected himself. "Excuse me, Mr. Hale."  
Trevor nodded silently. He could see William needed more convincing, and he knew what he had to do. "Actually, my name's not really Trevor, either."  
"Another alias? You're quite the man of mystery, Mr. Hale. Then what is your true name, if I may ask?"  
Taking a breath, Trevor stood. William looked up from where he sat as Trevor stepped in front of him, blocking out the sun. Trevor extended his hand, the sun's bright haze shining around his head.  
"Hi, I'm Cupid. Immortal god of love. Nice to meet ya."  
William laughed, shaking his head. He had to hand it to Trevor. It seemed he would try anything. Taking Trevor's hand, William pulled himself up. "Now I see," he said as he stood, "You're the Olympian god of love, travelling third class. Nice theatrics, by the way. Stepping into the sun's aura and all that."  
"Glad you liked it. As for third class, I go where I'm needed."  
"Oh of course. And why is it that you haven't mentioned this before?"  
"I wasn't really here before, I was... somewhere else. It's sort of complicated. Mr. Collins isn't really me... maybe." Tired of thinking about it, Trevor rubbed his forehead. "At least I think he's not. But he could be. I suppose. Actually, I'm not really... sure."  
William pursed his lips and nodded as if it were all completely reasonable. He didn't believe any of it for a second. "And where were you, if you weren't here?"  
Trevor sighed. "Banished to Chicago as a bartender, some eighty odd years from now. My own personal Hades. Both me and Claire. She's just a normal human being, though. More or less." Trevor chuckled, knowing how strange it sounded.  
William played along. "So I should listen to your advice because you're not only the god of love, but you're also from the future."  
"Right. And because... if you ever expect a future with Eileen it's got to be now. Or never."  
"Why is that?"  
Trevor could almost hear Claire's voice chastising him, but he continued. "Because in two days this ship will hit an iceberg and sink. I'm not saying I have a list of who lives or dies, I wasn't really paying all that much attention the first time it happened. But my point is, don't put this thing with Eileen off."  
"Hmm. Your latest tactic. I think I understand."  
"Excuse me?"  
"To get me and Eileen together. Placed in mortal danger, the two lovers must grab whatever small amount of happiness they can before the tragic end..."  
"Hate to break it to you, William but... like every other mortal I know, that statement's true every second of every day of your life."  
"Well, its quite a story-"  
Trevor interrupted him. "It's not a story. Sunday night, an iceberg will appear in front of the ship." Trevor turned and started to walk to the ship's railing, nodding the direction the ship was travelling. "The lookouts won't see it in time." He glanced up at the crows nest, calling out, annoyed.  
"Nice work, you pinheads!"  
One of the lookouts glared down at him, but said nothing. Trevor waved it off, turning back to William.  
"Anyway. The ship will try to turn, but not fast enough. Not before the iceberg scrapes along the starboard side," Trevor leaned out over the railing and pointed down, " Just beneath us. The forward compartments will flood and the ship will start to go down by the bow. A whole lot of people won't make it into the lifeboats. It all takes about three hours. And eighty years from now, it also takes about seven dollars and twenty five cents a ticket."  
William was silent. What a strange story to make up. "While I may not believe you, I appreciate the effort, Mr. Hale. Trying to create a scenario that will encourage me. I'm just... not ready."  
Trevor moaned. "You have to be. You don't have time not to. Why aren't you ready? What's stopping you?"  
William looked out over the ocean, speaking in a somber voice. "Do you know what the worst part of falling in love is?"  
"Free sex?"  
"Losing that love. That's the worst part."  
"Now you're starting to sound like Claire." Trevor waited to see where William was going with this.  
"I don't mean losing love because of some argument or infidelity, but because of fate. Blind chance, I suppose. I hadn't told you, but I was married once, Mr. Hale. And madly in love. We had many happy years together."  
Trevor felt what was coming, seeing it on William's face.  
"You think a love like that will last forever, transcend time itself, unstoppable. Until something does stop it. A sudden illness. My wife... died, Trevor. The first love of my life."  
Trevor swallowed. He didn't know what to say, his usual bravado gone. "William, I'm... I'm sorry, man."  
William nodded. "I would have done anything to keep her with me. Given anything. Anything to save her. But she was gone. You're married Mr. Hale. Surely you understand."  
Trevor considered it, thinking of Claire. "I suppose I do."  
"It's been six years and I've felt nothing like that again. Until Eileen. Until I came on this ship. I can't explain why, but when I see Eileen, my heart... shines. And breathes again. Fills with feelings I haven't had since my wife died six years ago. You may live in the future, Mr. Hale, but I'm afraid I'm... still living in the past."  
"I understand." Trevor placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're hiding."  
"What?" William couldn't believe what Trevor had just said.  
"You're hiding William. Look, I'm sure you loved your wife. But now she's become your excuse. Your excuse to yourself. Your justification against falling in love again because it might hurt all over. Let me tell you something. Love hurts. Love scars. Love wounds and mars. And a bunch of other lyrics I don't really remember right now. But that's _love_. You have to make it worth it despite the pain..."  
William looked at him. "You say this ship will sink. That we all may die. I suppose the god of love has never lost someone he loves, but I have. It's a lesson I would rather not learn again."  
Trevor was silent for several seconds. "There's always risks to everything, William. Even if losing the love of your life is a harsh lesson, you can't let that rob you of the rest of your life. It doesn't matter if it's chance, the gods, the fates... whatever. You go on. Not in spite of the people you've lost, but because of them. Because of the strength they've given you. I don't know, maybe now's your time. Time for both of you to move on and love again."  
"I don't know, Mr. Hale." William still seemed uncertain.  
Trevor turned to leave. "Well, no on will for you. Go to her. Find Eileen and treasure every moment. Because one thing that I do know is that love is worth it." Trevor nodded silently, knowing he could push no further. He walked away, leaving William alone at the railing to consider it.  
Trevor burst into his cabin, but Claire wasn't there. He began to pace nervously back and forth in the small space, suddenly upset. Some of the things William had said were still playing in his thoughts, and he began to whisper to himself.  
"That can't be it. That can't be the lesson for me here."  
Trevor thought about it. He didn't know why he and Claire were there, if they really even were. Didn't know what the gods had in mind. But what had happened to William had given him some ideas he didn't like.  
"No," Trevor muttered. "Not Claire! Losing her can't be the lesson the gods want to teach me! I won't let it be." Trevor looked defiantly up at the ceiling. "Do you hear me?" His shout echoed off the metal bulkheads, getting no answer in response.  
"I don't care what else happens, but Claire's going to make it." His voice wavered and his eyes began to moisten. He sat down on the edge of his bunk, considering. Interlacing his fingers, he pressed his hands against his mouth. A tear fell down his cheek.  
"You can have the entire ship. No one believes us when we warn them anyway." Trevor whispered to no one in particular. "But I'll get Claire into a lifeboat. You can't have her. The three fates be damned." As he began to calm down again, Trevor wiped away the tear. He could taste it on his lips, salty like sea water. Trevor nodded to himself, his face resolved.  
There was a knock on the door. Trevor got up and opened it, only to find to his suprise that William was standing calmly in the hallway. His eyes glowed with determination. His face had gained an air of certainty.  
"Trevor, you were right. I _was_ hiding. I don't want to hide anymore."  
Trevor smiled, glad to see the change in him. "OK," he said simply.  
William nodded. "I just hope it's not too late, Trevor. Hopefully she'll give me another chance after how rude I've acted. Either way, I've got to tell Eileen how I feel. Will you help me?"  
Trevor laughed. "Yes I will. No time like the present. I should know."  
William smiled. "I trust you, Trevor. God of love from the future or not. We can't let ourselves live in fear."  
Trevor looked over at Claire's empty bunk, worried about her. "No, we can't," he said quietly before turning back to William. "Come on. Let's see what we can come up with to sweep Eileen off her feet."  
Trevor patted William's shoulder, and they left the cabin doorway. Trevor closed the door, leaving behind an empty room.  


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	7. memory like water page 7

  
  


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Eileen was on deck as William slowly approached from behind her. He paused before continuing, his movements awkward. Looking back the way he came, William saw Trevor poke his head from around the corner. Without a word, Trevor motioned him forward with his hands before ducking back out of sight. William took a deep breath, and moved the last few steps.  
"Hello again, Eileen."  
Eileen nearly jumped. "How did you know I was thinking about..." She stopped herself when she realized he didn't know what she was talking about, her face embarrassed as if she had been caught doing something wrong. William gave her a confused look.  
Eileen continued. "Sorry, never mind." Her icy demeanor returned in full as her cheeks flushed. She kept darting quick glances at him, but she continued to look out over the ocean.  
William was too nervous himself to even notice. He grabbed the railing before them like a life line. "I just... well. I wanted to apologize for my rude departure last night. Believe me, it wasn't you. There were just some things that have been on my mind that Trevor helped me to work out."  
Hidden from sight, Trevor listened to their conversation, a smile on his face. He whispered to himself. "OK, hang in there William. Not the lines we worked on, but you're doing fine."  
Looking at William, Eileen felt dizzy because he stood so close. She could feel the longing within her, the sudden urge to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. But she looked away instead, embarrassed he would see it in her eyes. She had to end this conversation before she humiliated herself.  
"There are no reasons for an apology, good sir. For that matter, I've already forgotten the entire... I'm sorry. What was your name again?"  
From where Trevor listened, he winced softly. "Shake it off, William. Just a flesh wound. You're still in the game. Just stick to your lines..."  
William looked surprised. He couldn't hide the slight bit of hurt in his eyes. "I'm--I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so forward. I'm William. Do you remember me? We spoke last night."  
"Ah, now I do remember. Speaking is a bit of an exaggeration isn't it? You were that strange fellow who ran off and left me."  
"Yes. Well, I didn't mean to."  
Eileen was becoming defensive. More than she should have been. "Perhaps I should apologize to you. You obviously didn't find me very good company."  
"That's not true, I-"  
"Perhaps you saw someone else who interested you more? I know how men's eyes can wander ever. Much Ado About Nothing. Shakespeare was right."  
William looked at her, his tone certain. "My eyes didn't wander from you once all last night. Neither did my thoughts. You... captivated me. I could think of no one else."  
Trevor whispered again, even though he knew William couldn't hear him. "Not so fast, William. Slow down. You'll scare her off..."  
Eileen's heart pounded faster than she would have thought possible. This was getting out of control. Why was he saying these things? She felt herself panic and decided to end the conversation. "Well sir, you've made your apologies. No need to overstate it. I perfectly understand. But I'm afraid I must be going now. Surely you should realize how more pressing matters can suddenly come up."  
Eileen turned and began to walk away, thankful to leave his side before she melted completely. William called after her.  
"Eileen..."  
She paused, but didn't turn. William continued, almost falling over his own words.  
"I was hoping you would have dinner with me..."  
Somehow, Eileen kept her balance. It was definitely time to leave. "I don't think so, Mr... well, William then. If your flightiness is any indication, I'm not sure I could trust you to show up." She turned and sped away as Trevor stepped out of his hiding place.  
"What happened?" he asked. "You didn't recite a single line we worked on."  
William barely noticed Trevor as he watched Eileen leave. He was still trying to make some sense out of what had just happened. "I don't understand. She didn't seem to believe that I was sincere in my invitation to dinner."  
Trevor watched her too. "I wouldn't go that far. Let's let her chew on the idea for a while while we think of your next move. Maybe she believed you, maybe she didn't. Either way, I still have a good feeling this is leading to some good feelings. Just a minor setback. We'll find something else. Don't worry. I'm pretty good at these things. Been doing it for a long time. This one's going to work."  
William seemed distracted, thinking of Eileen. Trevor steered him below decks to continue planning.  
They had found a quiet corner in the third class smoking room. Trevor sat on a piano bench across from William. As they huddled together, a few people moved through the quiet room. Most were up on deck enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Trevor continued with the plans they had been making.  
"OK, I know someone who works in the ship's galley. One of the first class cooks was in steerage last night during the party and I pointed him at this wonderful... well, let's just say they both owe me a favor. He promised me he'd sneak the two of you into the first class dinning room. So don't worry. The romantic dinner part is covered. You'll get the hoity and the toity. She'll be very impressed."  
William's eyebrow came up. "Jumping a bit ahead, aren't you? EIleen hasn't even agreed to anything yet. She didn't seem to be about too, either."  
Trevor wasn't dissuaded. "Convincing her is just a detail, like preaching to the choir. From my point of view, she's already gone to dinner with you, she just doesn't know it yet. Anyway, I think I've convinced Claire to help us. Actually, since she's not speaking to me, she'll do whatever the hell she wants and I'll just take the credit. Right now what we need is a catalyst. Something to sweep her past her fears." Trevor smiled at William. "You know how fear can sometimes get in the way, don't you?"  
William chuckled. "You might look into a course on subtlety."  
Trevor brightened. "Thank You."  
"No, I meant you need to take one. But I think I do have an idea. She really seemed to enjoy it when you played the piano Wednesday night. Don't you remember? When the ship was anchored off of Cherebourgh? And if I may say so, you played quite well. Eileen was very fond of it."  
Trevor blinked, not following. "Excuse me? I did what Wednesday night?"  
"Played the piano. You gave quite an accomplished performance. Everyone in steerage has been wondering when you would play again, actually."  
Trevor stuttered nervously. "I--I--Don't think that-- You, you must have confused me with--I did what?"  
"Mr. Hale, everyone saw you. You were the most entertaining part of the evening."  
Trevor shook his head. "Couldn't have been. That was before we passed out so it wasn't me. I've never been very good with music or instruments. I set Apollo up on a blind date with a medusa that went bad once, and he's still kind of holding a grudge-"  
William prodded. "But last Wednesday-"  
"Maybe I just got lucky and hit the right keys, what can I tell you. I don't really know how to play..."  
William looked over at the piano just behind Trevor. "Well, there is one way to find out. Why not have a go at it and we'll know for certain."  
Trevor stared at him, hearing the challenge in William's voice. he answered reluctantly ."Alright... Just remember, no matter how bad it sounds, you asked for it."  
Trevor swivelled on the bench and faced the piano. His hands hovered over the keys, fingers outstretched. Then, as they were darting downward he pulled back, leaving the keys untouched.  
"Wait a second," Trevor said. "I don't know any of your music."  
"Then play something you do know. Something from this future of yours. Something romantic and heartfelt. Something... that makes you think of Claire."  
Trevor felt an uncontrolled twinge of embarrassment at that assertion until he remembered that here at least they were considered husband and wife.  
William smiled. "If music be the food of love, play on."  
Trevor thought about it. "Let me see, something that makes me think of Claire..." Trevor curled his fingers and dropped his hands onto the keyboard, intentionally hitting several adjacent keys at once. He smiled. "Perfect."  
William covered his ears. The harsh, dissonant sound echoed off the walls.  
"Lovely," William cautiously removed his hands from over his ears. "Try something a little more romantic if possible. If you expect honesty about my feelings for Eileen, I expect no less from you about Claire. Don't hide behind a dissonance. Play me something about how you feel about her. By the way. Did I mention we all admired your singing voice?"  
Trevor sighed. "When did we end up switching jobs? Fine. Something with vocals. I never realized being Cupid could be such a pain in the arse. Let's see..." Trevor was silent for several seconds. Then, without thinking about it too much, he picked a song.  
Trevor's hands dropped onto the keyboard. No one was more surprised than him when an actual chord came out. He paused, blinking. Beside him, William waited patiently.  
Trevor continued. He could feel the notes under his fingertips, almost like an instinct. His hands danced over the keyboard, going from one chord to the next, precisely the way he heard the music in his head. Trevor smiled, enjoying it. He remembered the first time he had heard the song he played. Someone had put it on the jukebox at Taggerty's. As it had played, Trevor had caught himself watching Claire from behind the bar. She had been seated at one of the tables, wrapped up in reading some book or something as rays of afternoon light flowed in through the windows, outlining her form. Trevor hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her. He covered for it when she had caught him by sticking out his tongue at her. But he still remembered the image... and the song. Trevor decided that since he had come this far, he might as well try singing the lyrics too. He started again from the beginning and began to sing.  
  
_She's got a way about her. I don't know what it is,  
but I know that I can't live without her..._  
  
Trevor's voice was full and strong. Not quite the polished timbre of a professional, but he sang with honesty. And somehow that made it feel more real.  
William leaned back as the music flowed from the piano, filling the room as Trevor continued to sing. The few passengers at the other tables all looked up as Trevor played, stopping card games, novels they were reading, pipes they were smoking, and letters they were writing. One by one they turned and listened. Trevor continued.  
  
_She's got a smile that heals me. I don't know what it is,  
But I have to laugh when she reveals me..._  
Above them, Claire walked on the aft deck alone. She wondered where Trevor was. It was strange. Who would have ever thought that she would reach a point where the only thing around her she truly accepted as real was... Trevor Hale. She thought about him in the third class party last night. She couldn't help herself. The sight of him him moving through the crowd trying to set up couples made her smile. It felt good that at least some things didn't change. The wind blew off the ocean and into her hair as her face brightened.  
Then something seemed out of place. She could hear something, faintly. Music. Rising through the deck beneath her. Someone was playing the piano, and Claire could just make out a voice. Curious she moved towards the well deck, heading below.  
Trevor continued to play, his thoughts filled with various memories of Claire even as he sang. An image came to him of her coming into his apartment as he had lain sick, bringing him chicken soup. He remembered the hug she had given him in that convenience store. Remembered the two of them swing dancing together. And slow dancing in front of a tombstone. He could almost hear her voice, her laugh over the phone when he had described the abstract image on his bedroom ceiling as a 'duckie'. remembered looking up and seeing the first bead on his string slid over apart from the rest. Each memory something to be held and cherished.  
  
_She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me without a sound,  
She touches me, and I get turned around..._  
  
William smiled as Trevor played, feeling the warmth in his voice. He had never heard the song Trevor performed. It felt different, unlike the songs he was used to. It was simpler, but more mature... more honest. Still, he wasn't sure that was quite it. For a moment, he considered if perhaps Trevor really was from the future. He brushed the thought away, deciding instead to just enjoy the music.  
As Claire came below decks, she could hear the music more clearly. It was coming from the closed door of the third class smoking room. Claire stopped in mid-step, suddenly realizing something. She recognized the song. It was Billy Joel, being played here, in 1912 onboard the Titanic. Claire smiled. Only one other passenger would even know of that song. Slowly Claire moved to the door, opening it quietly and looking in. The music flowed out to her.  
_She's got a light around her, and everywhere she goes,  
a million dreams of love surround her... everywhere_  
  
Even though she had expected it, Claire couldn't believe her eyes. It was Trevor sitting at the piano, singing. When did he learn to sing? Or play piano? As she entered the room, Claire paused just beyond the doorway, deciding to watch from there. She felt the tenderness in Trevor's voice, the feeling in his playing. It filled the air, and looking around, she could see that everyone felt it. Claire edged up to one of the room pillars and slowly leaned her head against it. Enjoying the moment, she stayed there as Trevor continued.  
William noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw Claire across the room, listening. She raised a finger to her lips, telling him to not let Trevor know she was there. William smiled as he imitated Trevor's playing in mid air and pointed towards her. Claire understood. She knew she should be upset that Trevor was playing a song like that for her. It probably crossed the doctor-patient boundary she liked to keep between them. But at the moment she didn't care. She was moved by the sentiment, and she would leave it at that.  
Trevor continued to play, not seeing her. Behind him, Claire heard the song approach its cadence. She quietly moved back to the door. He still managed to surprise her. It was a sweet gesture, and she didn't want Trevor to ruin it by saying something that... Trevor would say. Opening the door, she turned and waited.  
  
_She's got a way about her, I don't know what it is,  
but I know that I can't live without her... anyway._  
  
The last few notes hovered in the air as softly, Claire closed the door behind her.  


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	8. memory like water page 8

  
  


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Saturday morning dawned cool and clear over the broad expanse of the mid-Atlantic. Stretching calm and blue to the horizon, the open sea sparkled under the bright light of the new day. The water was empty and serene, far from the trials and troubles of people or nations.  
Then a ship steamed into view. Small against the great expanse of water, it pushed its way forward white painted superstructure glistening bright in the morning air. Slowly it grew larger, it's mighty prow cutting through the waves that crashed far below the great ship's name, painted above its slung anchor. Titanic. Trailing the ship, the wake of the vessel's passage frothed and churned a path in the water. A path that in the distance behind faded away into calm ocean again, like a forgotten memory.  
In the foreground the ship sailed on as it bathed in the new sunlight angling down from the eastern sky at its back. Sunlight which warmly cascaded along the ship's port side as it steered slightly south. Row upon row of round portals marked the riveted hull. Behind one of those openings was a small cabin where the golden rays cascaded through the portal to fall in a shaft of light onto the wooden deck within.  
The shaft fell between Claire and Eileen as they sat in Claire's cabin, seated across from each other on the room's two small bunks. The light reflected off the floor, bouncing onto their faces in a soft illumination as they huddled together. They had been talking for over an hour, a quiet discussion that had obviously been one of some soul searching. Both seemed calm and introspective, but the remnants of the exposed feelings they had discussed could still be heard in their voices. Eileen had poured her heart out to Claire, telling her everything about her fears... her hopes. And Claire had listened. And had done her best try and help.  
"Eileen," Claire was saying, her voice reasonable and caring. "You're still pushing William away."  
Sighing to herself, Eileen closed her eyes. "Is that what I'm doing?"  
Claire nodded. "Yeah. Yeah it is."  
Eileen looked away. "Well... maybe it's for the best in the end."  
Claire smiled. "You're not a very good liar, Eileen. I see in your face that you don't believe that. You feel something for William. He feels something for you. So why not?"  
"After what happened at my wedding, I don't think that-"  
Claire reached out and held Eileen's hands between her own. "Look, I know what happened to you was rough. It would be on anybody. I mean, your fiance left you at the altar. The absolute worst place to tell you he doesn't love you."  
Eileen sniffed, remembering. "It's not really even that. For the longest time afterwards, I just assumed it was another woman. There had to be a reason he did what he did. A secret affair, or an attraction to someone else I didn't know about yet. I would still run across him here and there. So I waited to find out who it was. But there was never anyone else. What he told me was true. It wasn't someone stealing him away. He just wasn't in love with... me."  
"You're right," Claire said. Eileen looked over as Claire continued. "Don't you see that it wasn't about anyone else but him and his feelings? It was his decision not to marry you. His. It was in no way your fault."  
Eileen shook her head. "But it forced me to evaluate things, Claire. Evaluate myself. I keep asking the same question. Why? Why didn't he love me? I absolutely adored him. I loved him with all my heart and yet... he still left. I guess I just wasn't good enough."  
Claire leaned forward. "No, that's not true. Don't believe that for a second. Just because he didn't love you doesn't mean you didn't deserve it. Love's unpredictable. You can know someone, be side by side and spend every day with them and it doesn't matter. Sometimes the love you hope for... just isn't anything more than a delusion. No matter how much you want it to be real. It's nobody's fault. But in the end... you can't force someone to love you. I should know."  
Eileen gave her a curious look but didn't say anything. She waited instead for Claire to tell her.  
Claire's expression became thoughtful, the sunlight's glow bright on the edge of her face. She reached behind her and picked up a pocket watch from the bunk she sat on. Claire had found it in her, in _Mrs. Collins'_, baggage. Looking down at it, she turned it between her fingers as she continued.  
"There was a man. A man I loved very much." She paused, it was hard to talk about. "His name was Frank."  
"Before Mr. Colli-, before Trevor?"  
Claire seemed uncomfortable. "After what he's been telling people about me, I'd rather not discuss my relationship with _Trevor_ right now, since I'd like to keep my good mood. Anyway, Frank and I were together for almost a year. It still hurts to think of him sometimes, but I'm learning to deal with it. Frank was the one who ended it with me."  
"I'm so sorry, Claire. Why did he end it? Didn't he love you anymore?"  
"No, that's just it. He told me he would always love me. But, he felt that... that it was me who didn't love him. We had an argument. And somehow he got the absurd idea that I was in love with someone else and wasn't admitting it to myself. Someone I... spend a lot of time with. I tried to convince him he was wrong, but he didn't believe me. So he left. In the end, he let me go because he loved me. It's what I've been trying to tell you. I couldn't force him to stay."  
Eileen smiled. "But then you found Trevor. He must have been a comfort."  
Claire's face brightened as she thought about how Trevor had been trying to cheer her up. "Sometimes."  
Despite all her protests about Trevor, Eileen recognized the look in Claire's eyes. It was the look she still hoped to see in William's eyes. A look she both feared and yearned for. Seeing it in Claire somehow made her feel better, feel happy for her.  
Claire turned back to Eileen. "Anyway, my point is you never know where you'll find the next love of your life. It could be someone you see everyday. Or... a chance encounter on a cruise travelling home. But I do know every person you meet is different. William isn't the man who left you at the altar. Just like you're not the same woman inside. Maybe William could love you if you let him. And I honestly think you could love him."  
"I wish I were as certain, Claire. I really can't say how William feels or even how I feel. I barely even know him."  
Claire smiled. "Sometimes that doesn't matter. With Frank, I just knew. Instantly. Even though it took me awhile to come around and accept that. It was wonderful when we were together. I remember how even the air felt different, fresh, new. Like my heart was a balloon holding my body up. I see the same things when I look at you and William. It's a rare thing. Don't throw it away."  
Eileen sighed, grateful for Claire's encouragement. "Thank you, Claire. I know it is. I'll have to think about it."  
Claire looked at her happily. "Make sure you do. Sometimes love can come from unexpected-"  
Suddenly the door to the cabin swung open as Trevor burst in. "Hey Claire, I was wondering-" He stopped in mid-sentence as he realized Claire wasn't alone. After a moment he closed the door quietly. Slowly Trevor stepped into the room.  
"-directions." Claire finished.  
Eileen smiled to herself as she rose off the bunk, smoothing her skirt. She turned to Trevor. "Good morning Cupi-, excuse me... I meant Mr. Hale. Claire and I were just engaging in a little girl talk amongst friends."  
"Really? Hope it was productive. Claire's kind of a pro."  
"Actually it was. Thank you again Claire. I'll see you later on deck."  
"Goodbye, Eileen. Think about what I've said."  
Eileen placed a hand on Claire's shoulder with affection. As she moved past Trevor, she looked him over, searching for something. "What ever happened to your wings? Lose them with your bow?" Without waiting for an answer she left the cabin.  
Trevor watched her leave in wonder. Turning back to Claire he smiled, not quite believing it. "You told her who I am?"  
Claire was lost in thought, until she realized what Trevor had asked. "No, I told her who you only think you are."  
"Same difference."  
"I figured why should all the passengers be limited to talking about my 'condition' when you have a perfectly good dementia all of your own. Eileen relayed to me what you allege I like to do when-"  
Trevor couldn't hide his smile. "Look, I'm sorry about that. I was just having a little fun."  
"At my expense, Trevor. Anyway, it does explain some of the strange looks I've been getting."  
"Only some. So what did you two girls talk about?"  
"Everything. Life. Love. William. How I think she should take a chance and see what happens."  
Trevor blinked, surprised. "So we're actually on the same page about this? Wow. That's..."  
Claire smiled up at him from where she sat. "Frightening, I know. But don't get the wrong idea, Trevor. I still believe we're imagining all this, I've just changed my approach a bit. Who knows if this is all just a metaphor. By resolving some off the conflicts here, maybe we'll be able to wake up."  
Trevor could tell she was just trying to find justifications for caring, but didn't want to bring that up. "If you say so, Claire."  
She looked down at the pocket watch she held.  
"Umm. Trevor..."  
"Yeah, sweetie."  
Claire ignored Trevor's attempt to annoy her. "I think I should give you this." She handed the watch over to him.  
As Trevor took it he looked over at her, not quite understanding what she was doing. "What is it?"  
"I found it in my luggage, Trevor. Well, Mrs. Collins' luggage. It's a honeymoon present, I think. From Mrs. Collins to Mr. Collins. So I ... well, considering who everyone thinks we are... I thought I might as well give it to you."  
Trevor was speechless. As he looked down at the watch he held, he didn't know what to say. He flipped open the lid only to find an inscription written on its other side, pressed into the new metal.  
  
_We'll always know each other,  
Because true love... remembers._  
  
He was very touched by Claire's unexpected gesture. Smiling, he looked over at her. She waited for a snide comment. But for once, Trevor decided to just say-  
"Thank you, Claire."  
She blinked at the sincerity in his voice. "You're welcome, Trevor."  
Carefully Trevor closed the lid and placed it in his pocket, enjoying the feel of it's weight there. He looked back at Claire where she sat bathed in the morning light. "Since I told you a little about William. What can you tell me about Eileen? Give me a scouting report."  
"Actually, her and William are going through similar problems. Loss and rejection. They're both afraid to risk falling in love again, Trevor. Still dwelling on how their last relationships ended. If they could get past that, I think the two of them could work."  
"That's true of a lot of people in this room. Love heals, Claire. Like any other wound. But they'll never stop pulling off the old scabs unless we can actually get them talking to each other."  
"Gee, Trevor. That's a pleasant metaphor for love."  
"We need to find something to connect them. Something they have in common. Any ideas?"  
"Well, Eileen's a big fan of Shakespeare."  
Trevor smiled. This was a stroke of luck. "You just said Shakespeare, right?"  
The nightly gathering in the third class open area had become something of a ritual. But tonight that ritual was about to turn into a fight. Slowly more and more people in the noisy crowd began to take notice as an exchange grew more heated in the middle of the room. Three men confronted a fourth as a worried young woman watched from just behind. The three men were her father and two brothers. And they didn't approve of the closeness with which the man they accosted had been talking to her.  
"Father, please!" She pleaded. "Just calm down. We were only talking."  
The three of them didn't budge, instead watching the man before them like a wolf that had walked into their front yard, their bodies tensed. Seeing she was having no success, the woman turned to the young man they faced.  
"I apologize for this, David." Her father glared over at her suddenly and she cringed, knowing she had just inadvertently revealed that the two of them were on better terms than she had let on. "Mr. Bowen, I mean."  
Her father's voice was stern. "Stay out of this, Stella."  
One of her brothers piped in as well. "Absolutely. You've no business being near the likes of a Welshman like him."  
Stella whirled around angrily, taking offense. "Oh go on, Douglas! You're my brother, not my keeper. I've twenty years in this skin, which is two years longer than you. And before you start, I have a year on you too, Georgie! Are the lot of you to spoon-feed me as well?"  
Douglas glared at her. "If need be!"  
For his part, the man they accosted stood his ground. David Bowen was young and lean, a boxer from Cardiff, and he felt not the least bit intimidated by the hulking, angry forms of Stella's father and two brothers. He stood there silently with his arms crossed, matching the three men glare for glare. Without a word, another man sidled confidently out of the crowd in support of David. He was another boxer travelling with him named Leslie Williams. Eyes moving across the men who confronted them, he spoke to David.   
"Everything under thumb here Davey-boy?"  
David smiled. "Couldn't be better, Leslie."  
Watching David's expression, Stella's father suddenly felt the urge to mop the floor with the faces of two smug little boxers. Stella quickly stepped in front of her father before he could do anything. The large man looked ready to fight. "You stay away from my daughter! For lightweight champion or no, I'll box your ears!"  
Stella shook her head. "Father, please..."  
Suddenly a man appeared from the crowd and stepped between the two sides, breaking the tension that was blatantly palpable between them.  
"Whoa!" Trevor said. "Hold it, time out! Time out!" He made a T-sign with his hands, not noticing the confused looks around him. "Let's just take a second to cool off a little." He turned to Stella's father.  
"Hi there. I'm Trevor Hale. I didn't catch your name?" He waited expectantly for a response.  
Stella's father, startled by Trevor's sudden intrusion into the situation, blinked as he answered. "John. John Sage."  
"Mr. Sage, I'm sure that all we have here is a little mis-understanding. Here, let me get you a drink, we'll talk this out."  
Gently Trevor turned Mr. Sage away and led him back into the crowd. Stella's two brothers still glared over at David, but eventually they followed. Leaving last, Stella gave David a sympathetic look that said volumes. A look that said they would definitely meet again in secret, as they had been doing the past few days. The other boxer, Mr. Williams, calmly took David by the shoulders and turned him around as well, giving him a comforting pat on the back as they walked away. The two parties dispersed in opposite directions, almost as if a bell had been rung.  
"Trevor?"  
Claire stepped out of the crowd of spectators as it dispersed, moving into the space left behind. She looked in the direction Trevor had left, over to where he was talking to Mr. Sage on Stella and David's behalf. Reluctantly, Mr. Sage seemed to be coming around. A second ago it had seemed to her that Trevor was walking into what looked to be a brawl. When she had tried to push forward to stop him from getting involved, the crowd had gained interest in the confrontation and had inadvertently blocked her. But now, the next thing she knew, it was over and everyone had retreated peacefully.  
"What happened?" She asked no one in particular.  
Two people came out of the crowd, Nurse Jessop and another man, holding hands. "Hello, Claire," she said. "Mr. Hale stepped into the thick of it before any punches were thrown, thank goodness. Just in the nick of time."  
Pleasantly surprised, Claire looked over at the man with Violet. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met."  
"Oh," Violet said. "This is John Priest, Mrs. Allen. He's one of the ship's firemen."  
Claire smiled. "Oh. Well, I see."  
John smiled down at Violet as he spoke in a deep voice. "Nice to meet you Mrs. Allen." He was obviously a man of few words.  
Claire nodded. "Nice to meet you." She gave Violet a look of approval. Violet's face was beaming.  
"Well," Claire said, "I didn't mean to intrude. Umm, carry on," she laughed.  
"Thank you Claire. And please thank Mr. Hale as well." The two of them looked at each other as they stepped away into the crowd, engulfed in the other's company. Claire watched them walk away, pleased for the both of them. They continued to laugh and talk as she followed them with her eyes. Then Trevor appeared at her side.  
He let out a relieved breath. "That was a close one. Almost blew up in my face. Who knew that Stella had such a big, burly, farmer family on board with her on this trip?" He broke into his best Rainman impersonation. "Next time, more research. Definitely more research. Definitely."  
"You put Stella and David together?"  
"Yeah, Thursday night. I'm going to have to keep my eye on them now. Humans are always so high maintenance."  
"Hmm. You've been busy. I just saw Violet and her new fireman. Your handiwork?"  
Trevor nodded. "A love-god's work is never done."  
"Don't you sleep, Trevor?"  
"I'll sleep when I'm human."  
"Isn't that supposed to be sleep when your dead?"  
"The difference being?"  
Claire looked around the room, wondering how many Trevor had tried to 'help'. It was filled with music, and laughing, happy people. "So Trevor, what's you current tally?"  
Trevor smiled. "Thought you would never ask." He subtly leaned in closer to her, their faces nearly touching as he directed her attention around the room.  
He pointed at a couple seated together, talking softly. Something about the ease with which they carried themselves around each other said they had known each other for years. "That's Mr. and Mrs. Neal McNamee. They weren't speaking to each other a few days ago. Probably heading for a split, a divorce, or years of misery staying together .I convinced them that sometimes love deserves a fourth chance."  
"Fourth?"  
"Yeah. It comes before the fifth and the sixth."  
Softly Trevor reached up as he stood behind her and held her shoulders, before he suddenly swivelled her around, helping her keep her balance. Claire almost smiled, facing in a new direction. When the room had spun around her, full of light and music, she had felt for a second like a little girl on a merry-go-round.  
"Over there Claire. See that very cute girl standing by the pillar with that young man? Mine. One Mr. Ernest Portage from Notting Hill and one Laura Cribb." Another dizzying spin. "And in the far corner over there you can just make out the delighted faces of one of the galley cooks with a waitress from first class." Yet another spin, this time Claire couldn't help but smile. "Then there's the rather dapper fellow named Robert you're now looking at. I unsuccessfully tried to set him up with an eager red-head, but it didn't take. Still, he found the spunky blond he's with all by himself. More power to him."  
When he spun her again, Claire held his arm, the spins getting more elaborate. "Our next contestants are the charming older couple by the stairwell, newly introduced by a kind supporter, namely me. While on the other side of the room are... wait, a bunch of people I've never met. Forget that. Over here... hmmm. An empty table. Sorry, bad aim." Trevor lifted her hand and spun her without pretense beneath it. Claire laughed as he twisted her in a complete 360 degree circle before stopping her again.  
"Trevor, are you pointing out actual people you've helped or are you just using this as an excuse to trick me into dancing with you?"  
"Well, somebody has to." Trevor took her in his arms as he dance stepped around her. "We could teach these people a thing or two about those swing dance lessons we had..."  
Claire whirled away from him as Trevor held her hand, before spinning back into him. They were completely out of sync with the music but they didn't care. Claire stopped after a few seconds, smiling at him.  
"Ok Trevor," she said happily. "That'll be enough. Swing dancing's just going to have to wait a couple more decades."  
"I suppose," he agreed reluctantly. "Dance fads are always so cyclical..."  
Claire caught a glimpse of something in the crowd. She watched for several seconds before smiling at what she saw. She tapped Trevor on the shoulder. "Trevor, look..."  


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	9. memory like water page 9

  
  


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Trevor turned and looked across the room in the direction Claire pointed. He watched for several seconds before smiling at what he saw. "Niceness. I suppose this is round three for them."  
"Four, Trevor."  
Trevor considered it, recounting in his head. "You're actually right Claire. I'm impressed. The numbers lady strikes again. Four."  
Eyes fixed across the room, the two of them walked behind a busy, crowded table, trying to keep themselves concealed so they could watch as discreetly as possible.  
Across the room, William was slowly approaching Eileen. There was no one between him and where she sat on a bench against the wall. His every step forward was cautious, but of one thing he was certain. He was no longer afraid. Sensing him as he grew closer, Eileen looked up. Calmly she rose to her feet to face him, her stance uncertain. But this time the thought never crossed her mind to leave, because she knew she didn't want to. Instead, as they both stood before each other, they said nothing. Quietly they enjoyed the silence between them, enjoyed the thrilling sensation of the other being so close. Behind them the crowd moved and danced, not noticing their still forms. William smiled as he looked up at her, his face still angled to the floor. He didn't want to break the moment, but he felt he needed to say something.  
"I, I suppose that.... Well, I guess I should say... Well..."  
Eileen nodded. Somehow the awkwardness of his words sounded endearing. She actually enjoyed it. "I suppose hello would be nice."  
Both took deep breaths as they considered what they were doing, trying to figure out just what they were supposed to say next. Until William realized that he still hadn't said it.  
"Well, hello."  
She looked at him, her expression soft. "Hello."  
"I'm William, in case you've forgotten. I'll be happy to remind you, if you forget." As she looked at his smile, Eileen thought it could have caught the notice of a blind man at midnight.  
She suppressed a chuckle as she thought about how she had treated him before. "No, I do remember this time. If you don't quite remember me, I'm Eileen."  
Amused at the thought, he looked over at her. "Eileen you say? How could I forget." Looking downward, William skimmed his foot before him across the floor, for all the world like a nervous schoolboy. As Eileen drank in the sight of him, she knew he was far from that. Feeling herself staring, she turned her face away.  
William glanced at her as she looked over into the crowd. Gazing at the lovely contours of her face, he felt his shoulders weaken. When she looked back at him, her bright blue eyes meeting his, William felt himself growing dizzy. He desperately needed something to say, something to uselessly try to get his mind off how stunning she was.  
"So. Trevor told me this afternoon that you like Shakespeare."  
That surprised her. "Yes I do. He's my favorite playwright. His every line of dialogue speaks like poetry."  
William shared her enthusiasm, his voice growing quicker. "Oh, I understand completely. I'm a huge admirer of the good bard myself. Mother would have it no other way when I was growing up. See, she read his writing to me when I was a child. He's why she named me William."  
"William? That's why you're called William?"  
He seemed embarrassed. "Well, yes. As I said, she was an avid reader of his work."  
Eileen smiled. "I suppose it could have been worse. She could have named you Puck."  
"Perish the thought. Or perhaps Prospero."  
"Prospero isn't so bad. But I don't see you as a Prospero."  
"What do you see me as?"  
Eileen fell silent, smiling to herself as she realized she had said to much of what she had been thinking. Her mind was filled with images of balconies and of a light which through yonder window breaks. "Never mind."  
William looked away. 'Do you really believe what you said? Earlier, I mean. When you quoted Much Ado About Nothing?"  
Eileen looked thoughtful as she recited. "_Sigh no more, ladies. Sigh no more. Men were deceivers ever. One foot in sea and one on shore, to one thing constant never._"  
"Yes. That's the one. Do you really believe that of all men?"  
She thought about it. "Sometimes."  
William nodded, deciding to let it be. "I'm quiet fond of several of the sonnets, actually."  
Eileen's eyebrows rose. "So am I."  
"And I assume you've heard how Trevor considers himself the god of love."  
"Most of the steerage passengers have. Still, they're willing to overlook it as simply good fun."  
"Trevor's enamoured of Claire, although he would never admit it. The self-proclaimed god of love struck by his own arrow. It reminds me of one of the sonnets."  
"Which one?"  
"154, I believe. The last one."  
Eileen smiled. "Yes, I think I see, although 153 works just as well. I know them all. Let me think of how the last one reads. I remember now. _The little love god lying once asleep_."  
Now it was William who was surprised. "You do know your Shakespeare," he said with approval. "I suppose Claire is the fairest votary that disarms him of his heart-inflaming brand."  
Eileen smiled at the image. "Perhaps Trevor isn't the only one not admitting their feelings." She looked up at his curious glance. "Claire, of course. We had a long talk this morning."  
William understood. "Sometimes it's hard for two people to admit the true feelings they have for one another." He paused for a second, watching her nervously. "Trevor and Claire, I mean."  
"Of course," she replied, softly.  
William lowered his eyes. "Trevor must have told you how he believes the ship will sink tomorrow."  
Eileen's face grew somber as she considered it. But then she dismissed the idea. "It's just a story. Trevor's been trying to get us together since before he was even going by the name Trevor. It's very sweet of him... if a bit misguided."  
William looked at her. Normally those words would have crushed him. But he could see in her eyes that neither of them believed that statement, not really.  
"Perhaps," was all he said. Then he continued. "Still... I can't help but feel that the last line of the last sonnet is strangely appropriate."  
Eileen tried to remember. "_Love's fire heats water, water cools not love._"  
William nodded as Eileen smiled sadly. "If what Trevor says were true," she continued, "I suppose it is. Still, I wouldn't worry about it. No matter Trevor's good intentions, he's just trying to fashion us as star-crossed lovers."  
"You mean like characters in a story someone is writing?"  
"Exactly."  
Her words gave William an idea. If they were characters, then perhaps he should say the lines. He began to quote. "_Love is a smoke raised from the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lover's eyes. Being vex'd, a sea... nourished with lover's tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet. A choking gall and a preserving sweet._"  
Eileen felt her cheeks flush as he recited those lines. William looked straight at her, eyes as full of adoration as his voice was. She felt a warmth flow through her. "Romeo and Juliet," she said.  
William continued. "Eileen, _you doth teach torches to burn bright._"  
Eileen smiled at the compliment, recognizing the quote.  
Across the room, Trevor and Claire continued to watch them talk. They couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging by the way they were smiling at each other, and leaning closer, it was going well. Looking over at Claire's face, Trevor realized she was showing far more interest in this than he would have thought. He looked back at William and Eileen.  
"Is it just me, Claire, or does it seem to you like they're finally talking to each other? It's a beautiful thing."  
"Nothing gets past you, does it Trevor? But I have to admit it does look like a promising first step."  
"A first step into their new reality or our continuing delusion? You seem uncharacteristically attentive, Claire. Don't tell me you might actually believe this is real."  
"No, I don't believe it's real. Still who knows. If we get the two of them together, maybe the delusional construct will dissipate."  
Trevor nodded blankly, at a loss. "Exactly what I was about to say..."  
Taking a breath, William finally found the courage to ask the question. "Eileen, as much as I've enjoyed quoting Shakespeare, in truth I came to ask you a question. To ask you again, actually. May I take you to dinner tomorrow?"  
Eileen smiled at his persistence, and she paused to think about it. But by a paper thin margin, she didn't feel quite ready for that yet. Still, she couldn't deny she was enjoying his company. "Thank you very much William, but I don't think so. I've truly enjoyed talking with you like this. Why ruin it?"  
"Well, we most likely would be talking during dinner. So why don't we just consider it an extended conversation with food involved?"  
She laughed silently to herself. "I don't think so. But thank you again. For asking. It's quite flattering of you to do so. It brightened my evening. But for now, I think it would be better if I take my leave of you. Goodnight... good William." Elated and aglow, she turned to leave. But as she began to walk away, she suddenly pictured herself running, an image she didn't like. Stopping, she turned back to William, considering her feelings.  
"On second thought, let me just say I'll... think about it. Ask me again tomorrow. Assuming the offer will still stand then?"  
William couldn't believe it. His face shone as he nodded. "Tomorrow. And every day after that, will that offer stand fair lady."  
She gazed at him warmly. "Very well, then. We'll see. Tomorrow." Eileen began to walk away again, her face beaming with happiness. Then she turned and gave him a look.  
"And by the way, William. You could teach torches a thing or two yourself."  
Without another word she turned and left, leaving William behind, floating on air.  
In a blissful haze, William walked over to Trevor and Claire, who had watched the entire thing from where they stood.  
"So," Trevor asked expectantly. Claire stood at his side, just as eager. "How did it go?"  
William looked over at Trevor as if seeing him for the first time, an amazed expression on his face. As he answered, Trevor wasn't even sure William had heard the question. "She said she'd think about it. That I should ask her tomorrow."  
Claire seemed a little disappointed, but it was good news in Trevor's mind. "Close enough. Time for the end game." Trevor darted enthusiastically across to a man seated at the table near them, speaking into his ear.  
"Hey, the Willy and Eileen thing's a go," he said. "We need everything set for tomorrow."  
The man smiled and nodded in understanding. Putting his drink down, the man got up to move around the table and speak to another of his colleagues there, whispering plans. Trevor moved back to William and Claire, joining them as they walked slowly across the room.  
"So William," Claire was saying. "I assume you will be asking Eileen again tomorrow?"  
He looked certain. "Absolutely. A day's not too long to wait."  
Trevor nodded beside them, as if he had heard the whole thing. Behind them, the man Trevor had spoken to finished his instructions. The second man rose and moved to a third, who after a few seconds moved to a fourth, a woman, and so on. As Trevor, Claire, and William walked, the ever growing activity slowly followed them like a wave across the room. Soon over a dozen off-duty crew and passengers had jumped into action amongst the revellers, discussing plans.  
Claire began to notice, watching in wonder at the effect following behind, growing larger. As she walked, she turned an astonished gaze to-  
"Trevor?"  
Smiling he looked back at her. "Just a little pre-positioning, Claire."  
Beside her, William saw the same activity as well, just as amazed as Claire was. He laughed aloud. "I hate to keep bringing this up, Trevor. But Eileen _still_ hasn't agreed to have dinner with me."  
Trevor wasn't fazed. "I know. But in case she does, and she will, there's nothing wrong with getting a little head start. When you're from the future, you tend to plan ahead."  
Claire circled slowly as she looked around, taking it all in. Beside her Trevor stopped as well, watching like a conductor while his orchestra performed under his appreciative gaze. Absently, William continued to walk, wandering off with a smile on his face, engrossed with thoughts of Eileen.  
Claire could clearly make out the people in the room that Trevor had co-opted into his plans. Briefly she heard the names of William, Eileen, and Trevor being bandied about. And occasionally she could hear them saying 'Claire' as well, while making quick glances at her and Trevor that Trevor didn't notice. She decided not to argue with Trevor's tactics. His motives were good in any regard. She turned back to him.  
"I have to admit, Trevor. You seem to have things well in hand."  
He shrugged. "Not quite yet. The only beings flightier than the gods are humans. Well, maybe a fairy or two. We'll have to wait and see."  
"Hmm. Regardless, Trevor. Even if this all does work out according to your plan, tomorrow is Sunday. April 14th. One day. That's not much time for a love affair." She didn't have to elaborate on what she referred to.  
Trevor nodded, aware of her point. But his face was still hopeful as he faced her. "Still worth it, Claire."  
Claire smiled back at him, not really surprised. It was Trevor, after all. And although she would never admit it to him in a hundred years, for once she agreed.  
It was early the next morning when Claire woke in a dim light. For a moment she forgot where she was, her eyesight hazy with sleep. As she tried to blink herself awake, she imagined she saw a curtain of bubbles rising before her. She shook her head in confusion when the image didn't dissipate. Then her vision cleared. Lifting her head off the pillow, she propped herself up on one elbow and looked over to Trevor's bunk, across from hers, and found he was gone.  
"Trevor?"  
She got no response. Still sleepy, Claire slowly rose from bed. Standing there, she rubbed her eyes as she yawned. She wondered where Trevor had gone off to so early in the morning. Silently, Claire walked over to the small round porthole on the outer wall of their cabin. Looking through with a smile, she gazed out upon the ocean beyond, sparkling in the minute old sunrise.  
It had been quite an enjoyable evening last night. After William had left, she had sat down to talk with Violet and John, before moving on to many of the other passengers, speaking with most for the first time. In some way she couldn't explain, she felt more comfortable with them now than she had before. Perhaps it had been from watching Eileen. Seeing her set aside her doubts and move on, finding the courage not to run from what she wanted. Even if Eileen was only an illusion, it made her feel better. She had enjoyed herself. Talking and laughing with all the imaginary people.  
As she looked out upon the ocean waves, the crisp air cold in her cabin, it struck her. It was finally Sunday morning. If this illusion followed the course of history, it was the last morning light Titanic would see. The thought sobered her good mood.  
And then, she thought about Trevor. Thought about what he would probably say, had said already for that matter. She could almost hear his voice. _All the more reason to start early._ Looking over at his empty bunk, she felt lucky that he was with her. And she didn't mean only on the ship.  
Smiling again, Claire looked back out over the ocean, feeling suddenly buoyant.  
"Carpe diem," she whispered happily, as she turned to get dressed.  
The mid-morning sun glowed warmly above when Claire fell quietly into step beside Eileen. As they walked slowly across the aft promenade, Eileen looked over at Claire, saying nothing as they enjoyed the sea air. Sunshine fell onto their faces. An ocean breeze whispered cooly across the deck. Moving aft, they passed passengers seated on the wooden benches nearby. A ship's crewman walked past, nodding politely at the two of them. They nodded silently back. After he left, Claire finally spoke.  
"So. Big day."  
Amused, Eileen glanced at her. "You make it sound like a prize fight."  
"Well, hopefully nothing so combative. But William knows he's going to ask, and you know he's going to ask. And now you've both had a full night to think about it, so... What are you going to tell him?"  
Eileen stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm going to tell him... yes." She seemed relieved to have said it.  
Smiling, Claire touched her on the shoulder. They both laughed softly. "That's... wow, that's great Eileen. I'm happy for you. For both of you. You've made the right decision. It's worth seeing where this could go."  
"I'm going to tell him yes." Eileen restated it simply, the words easier the second time. Then doubt flowered across her features. "At least... I hope so."  
Claire didn't understand. "What do you mean?"  
"Don't get the wrong idea, Claire. I want to have dinner with William." Her face brightened. "I **_really_** want to. I don't think I have ever wanted something so much in my entire life. But I don't think I've ever felt so nervous either. Not even on my wedding day-" She corrected herself. "My almost wedding day, I mean. So just because I want to say yes, and plan to say yes, and hope to say yes, that doesn't mean that when I'm faced with it, that yes... is what will come out. How do I know that I won't ..."  
Claire smiled. "Run away? Say no?"  
"Exactly. I hope I don't do that. I really want to spend some time with him, just the two of us." Her voice sounded worried. "What am I to do?"  
Claire gave her an encouraging look. "Have faith in yourself, Eileen. In the end that's all you can do. But that's all it takes. No one is going to tie you down or force you to accept his invitation. But if being with William is what you really want-"  
"It is, Oh my, it is."  
"Then you're the only one who can say yes." Smiling, Claire looked away. "But I wouldn't worry too much about it."  
Eileen seemed confused. "Why? What do you mean?"  
"Well Eileen, let me tell you a little secret. William absolutely adores you. I have a hunch he'll understand if you panic and say no. And then he'll probably ask you again tomorrow."  
Eileen laughed. "And the day after that?"  
Claire smiled. "Sure thing. He's got his own faith, like you," she said with encouragement. "And besides, you both deserve this."  
Eileen raised an eyebrow as she looked at her. "The same could be said for some other couples I know."  
Claire watched the ocean happily, but said nothing.  
Walking beside her, Eileen crossed her fingers. "I'm hoping that you're right and he doesn't change his mind. But the 'yes' may be the easy part. What would we do? What would we talk about?" Eileen seemed both nervous and intrigued by the prospect.  
Claire nodded. "Well when you care about each other, the most mundane things become fascinating. You both have a leg up since you're so taken with each other. Everything seems riveting when it comes from someone you love. Most people have to come around to that point, and it takes them by surprise before they even realize they felt that way. Still, don't fall victim to unrealistic expectations either. You got to expect the occasional lull, here and there. With you and William, you can always fall back on Shakespeare I suppose. But I don't think it will be a problem, to be honest."  
Eileen looked at Claire eagerly. "I guess what I'm really asking is when would it be appropriate for me to... Well, when can I..."  
"Kiss him?"  
Eileen smiled. "For starters..."  
"Hmm. It varies."  
"How did you first kiss Trevor?"  
Claire looked nervous. "This isn't about me and Trevor, it's about you and William."  
Eileen seemed amused by Claire's reluctance. "Well, since we're sharing, I thought-"  
"Don't change the subject. As for knowing when to kiss William, there's no set signal. With the men I've been with, that first kiss has sometimes been obvious, other times it's been a surprise that has come out of nowhere."  
"But what about the the first time you kissed Trevor?"  
"Look, I have nothing to say about kissing Trevor, OK?" Claire knew that wasn't evasive, just the truth. But as her mind wandered, she touched her lips with her fingers as if she were thinking, but Eileen knew better, more sure of her suspicions than ever.  


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Claire came out of her reverie. "I guess the only answer I can give you is that you'll both just know when the time is right."  
Eileen leaned into Claire with affection, giving her a playful bump. "Thank you, Claire. It will have to do."  
"Oh, it's not a problem. I'm glad to help. But if you find you can't find the right moment, then there's always the more direct approach. Cut off all of his avenues of escape, and then-"  
Claire and Eileen looked at each other meaningfully for a second, before they replied simultaneously.  
"-Jump him!"  
They both laughed, causing the other passengers to look over. Smiling, Claire and Eileen tried to regain some sense of composure. Only partially successful, they looked around at the scrutiny they were getting, waving at some of the stares.  
An older woman walked by, her eyes lowered in amusement. "That's what I would do," she said simply, before continuing on her way.  
They both looked at her with surprised expressions, nodding their agreement. Eileen sighed, looking out over the ocean. "We're both too old to be carrying on so, Claire. I think we've all been around Trevor too much."  
Claire thought about how long she had known him. "Eileen, you have **_no_** idea..."  
"Clear a path! Yeah, I mean you butterbean! Love train passing!" Trevor made siren sounds from where he sat on top of an upright piano as it slowly approached several surprised passengers who scrambled out of the way. Surrounding him on all sides, seven crewman and ship's stewards struggled to move the piano down one of the ship's cramped passageways. The piano had originally been sitting in the third class smoking room all the way aft. But Trevor needed it all the way forward. So he had decided to hitch a ride as they pushed it along, calling out orders through a rolled up paper, clearly in his element.  
One of the exhausted stewards looked up at Trevor, wiping a tired arm across his forehead. "Mr. Hale. This would be a bit easier if you would climb down from there."  
"Hey, think that it's not nice to fool with Mother Nature? Try the god of love, buddy. I can fix it where your sexual encounters can be counted on one hand. Or is that your one hand can be counted on? Either way, no one said love was easy. You guys owe me, so put your back into it. Now, mush!"  
"But Mr. Hale-"  
"Hey, less woe more go! Who arranged the corset raid to the stewardesses quarters last night? Huh? That would be me. I have first hand knowledge that some of you owe me big time. And by the way," he turned to one of the stewards, placing his impromptu megaphone against the man's ear. "Billy! My, man! The point of a corset raid is to take the one's they're _not_ wearing. Still, I admire your initiative. Not to mention your recuperative powers. I've never seen someone run so fast after taking a good swift kick between the- Claire!"  
Trevor spotted her as he continued to ride on top of the piano, warmly calling out to her as she came out of a side passage. She looked over, surprised at what she saw.  
"Sparky, top of the morning to ya! Bottom of the morning! Hips of the morning! Ribcage of-"  
"Trevor, what are you doing?"  
Before he could answer, another of the struggling crewmembers called up to him. "Mr. Hale, please!"  
Trevor grunted in annoyance. "Fine, I'll get off already!"  
Trevor climbed off, dropping smoothly to the floor. With a groan of relief in unison, the men were immediately able to push the piano noticeably faster, rolling it quickly forward. As it sped towards her, Claire lifted her hands and stepped out of the way, allowing the procession to squeeze past. She walked beside Trevor as they followed behind the piano.  
Trevor shook his head. "I've never seen so many whiners since the centaurs lost the tap on keg night."  
Claire smiled at him. "Maybe they were weighed down by all the delusions you carry around. It's a heavy load."  
Trevor called out to the stewards through his paper megaphone. "And just because the girls threw a retaliatory raid and took all your best and/or only undergarments is no excuse for acting so... crotchety."  
Blinking as he thought about what he had just said, Trevor laughed once. "Ha. See that Claire? I made a pun."  
"Hmm. Thalia would be proud. Trevor, what is all this?"  
"Just some final prepera- Wallace! Hey music man, come over here. You too Mr. Brailey."  
The man Trevor had called out to walked up to them, dressed in a white musician's jacket and carrying a violin. One of the men pushing the piano came over as well, wearing a similar blue jacket. Trevor put his arms around both of them.  
"Here's the deal, Wally. I played a few things for your intrepid pianist here before I drafted him into the love chain gang. And-" Trevor momentarily took on a very nose in the air British voice, "Mr. _I've got perfect pitch and can replay anything you could possibly show me _ surprised me and managed to get them memorized after a few tries. Magic fingers told me he'd run it by you to work out arrangements and parts. Time will be tight, but do you think you can do it?"  
Wallace nodded. "I will endeavor to do my best, Mr. Hale. But right now I'm needed for Sunday services, as is Mr. Brailey, I'm afraid."  
"Great," Trevor said. "That will work out nicely. I'll send Mr. Brailey to you in a second. See you later this afternoon. Forward open area." He patted Wallace on the back, sending the head violinist on his way. Mr. Brailey looked ready to follow him, reluctant to get back into the group of men pushing.  
"Trevor, perhaps I should go with-"  
"Not yet piano man. I'm sure you've heard this before, but I need your talented hands. There's a space with your name on it, so push it. Push it good. Push it real good. We've got a delivery to make." He guided Mr. Brailey back to his spot.  
Claire whispered to Trevor. "You might want to ease up before the workers revolt. I wanted to ask you. Have you seen William?"  
"Yeah, tall guy. Very handsome." He turned to the laboring crewmen. "Come on fellas! Let's get a move on. Love train. Let's go. Hoo-waa!"  
"Eileen's been looking for him, Trevor." Claire looked again at the men struggling with the piano. "Are you going to tell me what you're-"  
"Sorry Claire." Trevor turned as he continued to follow the piano. "Can't talk right now, I'm working. I'll come get you later. Love ya, hugs and kisses, yadda yadda yadda..."  
As he turned away from her, Trevor noticed someone he recognized in one of the side passages. "Walpole! How's the food situation, everything set?"  
She watched in amazement as Trevor walked away, wondering how he had gotten so many people to go along with his scheme. Sighing, she turned and went back the way she came.  
Slowly Claire led Eileen forward as they walked together down one of the ship's passage ways. Eileen didn't really understand where they were going or why. She looked over at Claire with a question in her eyes.  
"So what did Trevor tell you?"  
"Not much. Just to bring you to the forward open area as soon as possible. He mentioned something about giving a special 'concert' he wanted you to hear. But that was all he said."  
Eileen blinked. "Strange. He hasn't played at all since that first night..."  
"Well, Trevor can be a strange man."  
Eileen smiled at Claire. "In his own charming way?"  
Claire seemed amused. "I don't think that's the layman's term for Trevor, but yes. In his own charming way."  
As they walked, they heard a noise before them. It was the hushed sound of many people, talking quietly as they listened to someone speaking. Curious, the two women glanced at each other as they stopped at the top of the stairs that led down to the third class open area. The crowd noise was coming from beneath them. There was no music, only casual conversations as they listened. The crowd laughed all together, and Claire could barely make out the voice of someone speaking to them. Beneath them, the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs was well lit. Without a word, Claire and Eileen descended slowly.  
As the room came into view around them they looked around, surprised at what they saw. There was a piano placed in the center of the room. Some of the nightly musicians from among the passengers were there with their instruments, mixing among several of the ship's official musicians who were easily recognizable in their crisp blue and white tuxedoes, their instruments shiny and new. The crowd they had both assumed was spectators was in fact a mass of passengers and crew who stood behind the musicians. They waited patiently together, as if they were performers as well.   
Trevor stood in the small space before them, obviously in full Trevor mode as he joked and laughed with the crowd. An image came to Claire of Trevor standing in front of her single's group back home, doing the exact same thing, as he usually did whenever she turned her back.  
Claire and Eileen stood awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, uncertain of what was going on. It didn't look like a concert. Where were all the spectators?  
Someone whispered to Trevor, and he turned around. Once he saw the two of them standing there, his face lit up. "Eileen! You're here. The guest of honor, right on time!"  
Behind Trevor the crowd whispered to each other to be quiet as the musicians seated themselves and picked up their instruments. Several of the standing passengers coughed to clear their throats. Quickly Trevor stepped over to the two surprised women, full of energy as he took Eileen by the arms and guided her further into the room.  
"Listen, thank's for being here. We're sort of all in this together, so it's a good thing you came. With you here we're all set. Now we can get things going."  
She looked at him warily as she stood in front of the crowd. "Mr. Hale, what is this?"  
"A concert. Didn't Claire tell you?"  
"Yes, but-"  
"Great! Let's find a chair for you." Trevor dragged a chair across the floor with a screech, placing it in the middle of the open space.  
"Isn't anyone else coming?" Eileen looked hopefully through the crowd, lowering her eyes with disappointment when she didn't see William.  
Trevor pressed Eileen's reluctant shoulders and gently lowered her into the chair. "No, we've got everyone we need right here."  
Eileen looked uncomfortable under the smiling gazes of the crowd before her. She was conspicuously alone, apart from the rest. As Trevor moved back to the musicians, Claire moved to his side and whispered into his ear.  
"Trevor, if this is anything like my singles group last week when you initiated the strip musical chairs fiasco-"  
"Don't worry so much, Claire-bear. Unclench every other month, you'll lose wrinkles." He patted her on the cheek. "No musical chairs today. But now that you mention it, I really wished I had remembered that sooner. Oh well, too late to change. This is completely different."  
"I hope so, Trevor. Outpatients getting inventive doesn't inspire a load of confidence."  
"Claire, if you would go stand by Violet and John, you'll understand soon enough. Try to catch up with the rest of us. Should be easy. You are a doctorate after all."  
Claire sighed. "I suppose there's always room for **_two_** disasters today."  
He smiled. "You wound me. I've got some liniment, will you rub it and blow? Just follow Violet's lead and you'll do fine. No disrobing unless the spirit moves you. Stand there and look pretty. See, look at that. You're two steps ahead of me already. By the way, how's your singing voice?"  
"My what?"  
"Never mind. Maybe you can go-go dance in a cage, or something." Trevor left her standing by Violet, who patted her on the arm warmly. Claire looked around at the mass of passengers she stood with. They all watched Trevor, waiting calmly. She shook her head, having no idea what was going on.  
Trevor stood in front of Eileen and faced the crowd. EIleen stroked her fingers across her neck nervously, looking down as she tried to find a way to dissolve into the floor. Trevor didn't notice, speaking to the rest of the room.  
"Ok, let's get into it. Just like we rehearsed. Robert, thanks for helping, but no more singing soprano. It's a little freaky for a man of your size. Alice, babe, scoot over..."  
Leaning against the back wall, an older gentleman watched the proceedings with amusement, a lit cigarette between his fingers as he stood apart. He went unnoticed in his gray suit and bowler hat, the only other spectator except Eileen.  
Trevor turned to the musicians. "Mr. Hartley, if you please..."  
Dressed in his white musician's jacket, Mr. Hartley lifted his shiny violin and placed it under his chin. Beside him a steerage passenger with a battered fiddle did the same, waiting for Mr. Hartley's lead. Trevor seated himself at the upright piano, waiting patiently. One of the stewards who had helped push the piano earlier whispered to him.  
"Mr. Hale, there was a piano here the entire time! Right over there," his voice sounded incredulous as he pointed. "Why did you make us drag this piano the length of the ship?"  
Trevor shrugged. "I like the tuning on this one..."  
Mr. Hartley pulled back on his bow and began to play as the steerage passenger beside him matched him in a close harmony. It was a slow, simple melody that had a folksy, Irish quality to it.  
As Claire listened, she blinked and tilted her head. She knew this music, it was familiar somehow. Her brow furrowed when she couldn't quite place it. She was certain she had heard it before. Claire turned beside her.  
"Violet, what is-"  
Violet shushed her silent and smiled, content that everything was going perfectly. Mr. Hartley and the fiddler repeated the first short phrase again, and then they paused. Suddenly the tempo increased as Trevor jumped in. His hand glissando'd down the keys with a flourish, playing along with several other musicians in accompaniment. The upbeat music sounded almost like an Irish ragtime.  
The two violinists continued, the melody simpler with all the added parts. A cello provided the bass. Claire was more certain than ever that she had heard this before. Several people were smiling around her, moving with the music slightly, obviously familiar with it. Soon the upbeat phrase repeated, and in unison the crowd began to sing, making Claire look up in shock.  
  
_ Poor old Johnny Ray, sounded sad upon the radio,  
He broke a million hearts in mono_  
  
Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. Once everyone had begun to sing the lyrics, the song had become recognizable. Glancing all around, she dropped her jaw in silent wonder at all the singing faces. As they continued unaware, she thought about what they would all say if they knew they were singing lyrics that wouldn't be written for nearly a century. Claire laughed and began to sing along.  
  
_You're grown, so grown,  
Now I must say more than ever..._  
  
Behind where Eileen sat, William entered quietly, descending the staircase in slow steps. Eileen didn't notice as she watched the performance before her, her apprehension melted away as she sat and listened to the music with glee. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, William watched her without a word, smiling at how much she was enjoying the entire room singing to her. He held a single rose in his hands but he kept his place, waiting patiently.  
  
_Toora loora, toora loo rye aye,  
We can sing just like our fathers,  
Come on Eileen, oh I swear what he means,  
At this moment, you mean everything..._  
  
Eileen laughed when she heard her name. Then, without knowing how, she sensed someone behind her and turned slowly around. She looked over at William as he stood there, idly turning the rose in his fingers as he watched her fondly. Her face changed instantly when she saw him, happy he was there. Without a word William approached her and extended his free hand. Cautiously, Eileen took it in hers, slowly rising from her chair and turning to him. She felt herself tremble, but not out of fear, instead on the verge of being overwhelmed as she lost herself in his eyes. She finally understood what Claire had meant, she hadn't before. She felt like she was floating.  
In front of them, Trevor watched carefully as he played. The music filled the room, almost as if it were nudging William and Eileen forward, just as Trevor had intended.  
  
_Come on Eileen, oh I swear what he means,  
Ah come on Eileen, let's take off everything,  
That pretty red dress, oh Eileen tell him yes,  
Oh come on let's, oh come on Eileen..._  
  
Eileen turned back to the crowd, her face aglow as several of the singers began to dance with the music, moving out of their places. The performance was quickly turning into a party. She looked over at William with eyes full of affection. He handed the rose to her, but said nothing. He didn't need to. He just waited. Eileen touched his hand in gratitude, thankful he wasn't going to force the question. They turned to watch the singing, dancing assemblage, holding on to and enjoying the moment.  
  
_We are far too young and clever,  
And things won't ever change,  
Come on Eileen, I swear what he means,  
At this moment, you mean everything..._  
  
From where Claire stood, she watched William and Eileen carefully. Suddenly she noticed an expression come over Eileen's face and she recognized it. The moment had come. The moment when Eileen had to decide to finally follow her heart again, or run away from it.  
The song slowed, as everyone began to chant together, watching Eileen carefully.  
  
_Come on, Eileen ta loo ra yae. Come on, Eileen ta loo ra yae. Come on..._  
  
Looking back to William, Eileen thought about her feelings for him. He watched her calmly, patiently, wanting nothing more than to be where he was, there with her. As Eileen looked into his eyes, she wondered what she had been afraid of. It now seemed foolish whatever it had been, irrelevant. With a determined expression, she leaned in close to him.  
"William..." she asked.  
He raised his voice to be heard over the music. "What is it, Eileen?"  
"Will you have dinner with me?" She smiled.  
He watched her in silence, not expecting in a million years that she would have been the one to have asked him instead. With a sudden laugh, he nodded. "Yes..."  
She felt as if a weight had been lifted off of both of them. Before Eileen could stop herself she threw her arms around him, laughing herself even as the crowd behind burst into cheers. The music played, speeding back to the uptempo section as people began to dance all around them, singing.  
From where Trevor continued to play, he watched as Eileen pulled back slowly, embarrassed at her rash outburst of affection. The look on William's face said that he didn't mind at all. Reaching over, she weaved his fingers between her own, a simple gesture that was full of warmth and hope. Two hands touching. Trevor smiled. That was really what it was all about. Connection. Everything else in the world was just stage dressing. Someone placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up.  
Claire stood next to him, pulling her hand from his shoulder as she leaned against the piano. He raised an eyebrow at her, wordlessly asking what she thought about what had just happened. Not wanting to concede the point, she rolled her eyes and exhaled. But finally she raised her hands and clapped them lightly towards him, showing her approval. Trevor nodded in thanks. Still leaning on the piano, Claire watched the room as it filled with the moving forms of dancing passengers.  
Trevor looked over to the other side of the piano where John and Violet stood nearby, his arms wrapped over her shoulders as he held her close. Catching John's attention, he bobbed his head towards Claire, then to the dance floor. John understood as Trevor continued to play.  
Whispering into Violet's ear, John slipped her out of his arms. He walked over to Claire and bent forward slightly, offering his hand in invitation onto the dance floor. Claire looked over in surprise, her face reluctant. Suddenly several women behind her began to push her out with John among the dancers.  
Claire didn't show much enthusiasm as she and John stood among the dancing throng. She barely danced at all as John stepped and led her through the crowd. She had always loved dancing. But since Frank had left her she hadn't really felt the urge to. Dancing with John didn't seem right somehow, as if something, or _someone_ was missing. So she stood in place, smiling as everyone danced around her.  
Trevor watched her silently, disappointed she wasn't dancing, but pleased at the smile on her face. He hadn't seen it in too long. Watching her push a strand of hair away from her cheek, he was struck again at how beautiful she was. Even though he wished she would join the festivities, he was still happy she was enjoying herself.  
His eyes wandered around the room, seeing faces he knew. Stella and David danced nearby. The McNamees held each other close. John was back in Violet's arms. Almost everyone danced, the party had truly begun.  
Trevor nodded towards Mr. Brailey, who came over and continued to play once Trevor rose from his seat at the piano.  
Trevor started towards William and Eileen, who were talking quietly by themselves at the foot of the stairs, before being stopped by Mr. Hartley.  
"Mr. Hale, my apologizes but I've got to go. They are expecting me in first class."  
"OK Wally, thanks again."  
"I'll need Mr. Brailey and Mr. Bricoux as well..."  


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Trevor nodded."Take them, tell them thanks from me and that I still need Mr. Brailey later."  
Mr. Hartley quickly moved over to Mr. Brailey at the piano, who upon seeing him, quickly cadenced the music to a stop. He rose and left with Mr. Hartley, followed by the cello player, Mr. Bricoux. All three tuxedoed musicians said their farewells and left, heading above. Several steerage passengers took their place. A clarinet player named Howard Irwin stepped forward and began to play some sheet music. It was a familiar tune to most of the steerage passengers, "Put your arms around me, Honey". As the dancing continued, Trevor turned back to William and Eileen, moving over to them as Claire fell in step beside him, curious as to what was next.  
William and Eileen looked at them, puzzeled as Trevor waited with a smile.  
"You two look good together," Trevor said. "I can really pick em. So. Let's get this thing started."  
Eileen blinked. "What do you mean?"  
"I promised William fancy and fancy is what the two of you are going to get. Fancier than a beer soaked dance hall in steerage, anyway." Trevor motioned behind him, and a few of the ship's stewards and stewardesses came out of the crowd. "My love minions here are going to get you dressed before you attend dinner in _first_ class. It's still a little early to eat, but time is short. So let's get a move on.'  
"Trevor," William began. "Can we have a little more time to-"  
"No arguing. As a wise contemporary from Olympus once said, Just do it." Trevor sighed fondly. "The things she liked to do, you mortals have no idea."  
The men led William away as the women did the same with Eileen. The two of them shared one more glance at each other, surprised at being separated so quickly. But as Eileen was led away, she was willing to see what Trevor had planned. Behind them the crowd burst into applause again, expressing their approval at finally seeing the long planned date begun at last.  
Trevor stepped into the space William and Eileen had left behind, satisfied. Everything seemed to be working. Claire stepped up to where Eileen had stood, turning to Trevor as the party continued in the rest of the room. Crossing her arms she spoke softly, looking at him with the tiniest smile on the corner of her lips.  
"All of this planning and execution, Trevor. All this effort. All for what could be just one night for the two of them."  
"Absolutely."  
Claire nodded. "For once, I can't find fault. You did good, Trevor."  
He laughed. "Good thing I took your advice and didn't get involved."  
Amused, Claire shook her head. "A broken clock twice a day..."  
Out of the corner of their eyes they both noticed John and Violet standing silently behind them, watching them carefully. As Trevor and Claire turned to face them, the rest of the room feel silent as if on cue. The musicians stopped playing. Everyone slowly came closer, standing all around in a semi-circle. Now it was Trevor and Claire who were the center of attention as the entire room watched them, happy faces all around.  
Violet stepped forward to speak. "And now for the two of you."  
Claire looked over at Trevor, wondering if this was part of his plans. "Trevor, what is she talking about?"  
Trevor seemed confused as he looked across the crowd. He had no idea what was happening. "I don't know, Claire."  
Violet smiled. "The estimable Mr. Hale isn't the only one who can play at being Cupid. All of us have decided that we would like to show our appreciation. To the both of you. You've both been very generous and kind. Even if one of you believes we're something that isn't quite real, while the other believes he's something that isn't quite real either. You've both done a lot for us. For all of us. It's time we returned the favor."  
Trevor leaned forward. "And you're going to do that by..."  
Violet smiled. "This was William's idea, but we all agreed. We're sending you up top as well, to a first class meal together. We've arranged it all, everything is set. So come on dears, the evening awaits..."  
Claire couldn't believe it. She lowered her eyes and smiled, touched by the gesture, even if the motivation was misguided. Trevor seemed genuinely surprised, not used to the tables being turned on him. They both looked at all the expectant faces that watched them from around the room.  
Trevor snuck a nervous glance at Claire, embarrassed by what they were proposing. "Thank you, Violet. But I don't think that's such a good-"  
Claire spoke at the same moment. "It's sweet of you, but Trevor and I aren't really romantically invol-"  
Violet would hear none of it. "Now, now. Don't be as slow to realize how you feel as the two who just left. I've never seen two people who have needed, to borrow Trevor's colorful phrase, 'a kick in the arse', as much as you two. We've all seen it. So no more arguments. It's for your own good. You're going to dinner together and that's final. We won't hear no for an answer."  
Claire blinked as she considered what they thought she felt for Trevor. "Trevor... I-"  
Trevor didn't let her finish. "You don't have to do this, Claire."  
Violet rolled her eyes. "If you need a pretext, so be it. We would like you two to observe William and Eileen, see if all our work pays off. How about it?"  
Claire looked over the array of grateful faces before her. Trevor had done a lot to help a lot of people on the ship. Even if they were all figments in her head, as she still believed, somehow she didn't want to disappoint them. Trevor looked over at her in the same moment she turned to him.  
He shrugged. "If you look at it that way... What do you say, Sparky. Mind a little recon mission?"  
"Sure," Claire smiled. "Why not."  
The music started up again as the crowd clapped and began to dance, resuming where they had left off, whirling all around the room as the music played. Violet moved over to Claire and took her by the arm. John laid a firm grip on Trevor's shoulder.  
In a comforting voice, Violet led Claire away. "Come on love, we've things to do."  
Claire and Trevor looked at each other as they moved apart. Trevor was suddenly jerked backwards forcefully. He found himself being dragged away against his will, surprised at John's strength. He called out to Claire.  
"I'll see you in first class, love muffin!" he teased  
She gave him a warm look, deciding not to argue, instead silently nodding her agreement with a smile. Violet led her away and out of view as Trevor disappeared with John, going the opposite direction. The four of them left an impromptu afternoon party running full bore behind them.  
Quickly, Violet smuggled Claire into the small cabin she shared with several other female members of the crew. Claire looked around, uncertain of why she was there. Violet waited expectantly, as if it were obvious.  
"Violet, I'm not really sure what you expect me to do."  
"Get undressed, silly." Violet hurried over to he bunk and grabbed a very elegant dress that was draped over it. She picked it up and pressed it against Claire, trying to judge the fit.  
"I don't know your size, Claire. But I have a pretty good eye for such things. We managed to acquire these clothes for you. Wouldn't want you to be traipsing around first class in steerage finery, would we? The dress isn't mine of course, I don't quite have your figure. But this should fit you nicely."  
Claire looked down at the dress pressed against her. It was beautiful, like nothing she had seen in steerage, and certainly not something she would have expected to find in any simple crewman's wardrobe. Claire wondered where it had come from.  
"Where did you get...?" she asked.  
Violet looked uncomfortable. 'From a long and elaborate chain of people aboard ship that it would be better you didn't know about. Trust in our good intentions Claire, no matter where they're paved. The shoes, dress and undergarments are all there. I'll be here to help you with the corset of course."  
"Corset?" Claire picked it up off the bed. "Aren't they a little... tight?"  
"Well of course they're tight dear. That's the point."  
Claire sighed. "What I wouldn't give for my favorite pair of sweatpants right now..."  
"Come on love. Don't want to keep Trevor waiting."  
John led Trevor through the cramped spaces under the bow of the ship where the firemen had their quarters. They passed an open shaft with a circular metal staircase leading downward. Heat and the smell of burning coal wafted up to them. Squeezing past several men covered in soot and sweat after finishing their shift, John lead Trevor to a room and placed him before a bunk.  
Trevor looked down with a skeptical eye at the fancy tuxedo arrayed on the bed before him. He turned to John, who stood silently watching.  
"Couldn't I just go as a waiter or something?"  
John gave him a level look. "No," he said simply, his voice leaving no room for argument. As far as he was concerned, if Violet wanted to see Trevor in a clown suit, Trevor would be wearing it whether he wanted to or not. And Violet wanted Trevor to dress nicely for his dinner with Claire.  
Trevor was about to ask for something else regardless, but stopped when he saw the glare in John's eyes as they looked down at him. John pushed the clothes over to Trevor, expecting to be obeyed.  
Trevor nodded slowly. "Right..." He pursed his lips as he realized how big John actually was. "I think I see your point."  
Without another word of argument, Trevor began to get undressed.  
Claire waited at the foot of the grand staircase in first class, looking up in wonder. Above her a white glass dome glowed brightly over the exquisite wooden balconies circling one deck above. Wide steps curved gracefully down to the floor where she stood. The changes in the ship's appearance from third class to first were astounding. Small details predominated in everything, whispering of elegance and refinement. Like the repeating pattern of black triangles arranged in a geometric burst, spread through the white tiles under her feet. Or the small swirls and figurines carved into the polished brown wood of the steps, pillars and railings around her. It was like a different world, let alone the same ship.  
As she waited, Claire nodded to the first class passengers who glided by, smiling politely as she tried to blend in. She took several nervous steps, looking for Trevor. He was late. As usual. A discreet distance away from her, one of the ship's stewards from first class waited as well, another participant in Trevor's plans. He had led her on a tour of the ship's upper decks after explaining that Mr. Hale was busy below decks and would be delayed. Now they both waited impatiently where Trevor had told the steward he would meet them.  
As her eyes swept across the staircase, Claire suddenly focused on the statue before her. It was a small winged cherub made of bronze, standing at the end of the hand railing that cut across the wide steps leading upward. Amused, she walked up to the statue, looking it over as she thought about Trevor. He had been a busy little cherub himself the past few days. It was hard to imagine that in some way, he saw himself like this. Smiling, Claire lifted her hand and touched its wingtip, when out of nowhere Trevor was suddenly behind her.  
"Sorry I'm late, Claire," he said over her shoulder. "Last minute brush fire I had to put out below decks. Think it's a losing battle, that one."  
"Look at this, Trevor." Claire spoke without turning around. Still watching the cherub, she wrapped her knuckles against it, a faint tone sounding off the bronze surface. "Remind you of anyone?"  
"If you're implying that I ever looked that doughy-"  
"Actually," Claire glanced downward, "I was wondering if it was anatomically correct. You'll notice he doesn't have much of a-"  
Claire stopped when she turned around and got her first good look at Trevor. He was dressed to the nines in an elegant dark tuxedo, its smooth lines well cut to his form. The image of him left her stunned. She couldn't remember him ever looking so... attractive. It was hard to believe this was Trevor Hale, delusional psychotic. When had he become so handsome?  
It took her a moment to realize that Trevor had stepped back to gape in surprise at her as well. Mouth hanging slightly open, he drank in the sight of the long dark gown she wore, it's delicate fabric clinging richly to her figure but leaving her shoulders bare. When she moved, the bottom edges whispered softly against the floor. Her hands and forearms were encased in white silk gloves. She laced her fingers together as she held them before her, looking like a queen.  
"Wow, Claire. That's a great... you look beautiful."  
"Thank you Trevor." She self consciously brushed the front of her dress, straightening non-existent wrinkles. Looking up, she slowly reached for Trevor's collar with a smile.  
"Trevor you've got, umm... it's a little....your bowtie," Claire chuckled nervously. "It's on crooked. Let me fix it."  
"Thanks. Obviously me and little big John don't have much experience with these fancy duds. I still tie a hell of a toga, though. Did I mention how stunning you look?"  
Claire's tiny smile beamed at the compliment. "I think you might have mentioned that. Violet did a great job picking out the dress." She pulled her hands back, finished.  
"Only the best," Trevor acknowledged.  
"Where'd she steal it from?" she said, catching him by surprise.  
Trevor smiled to himself. He should have know he couldn't fool Claire. "From the cargo hold, actually. Yeah. Most of the supplies for this shin-dig are from there. A few harmless acquisitions in the name of love. Didn't expect that they would also pick out something for the two of us..."  
"Well, it was sweet of them. Aren't you afraid that these 'harmless acquisitions will be missed?"  
"I figured no one would really have the chance to notice since..."  
Claire nodded. "You've got a point."  
"Besides, it would have been a shame to waste that dress on the bottom of the ocean. You do it much better justice, Claire."  
"Thank you, Trevor. You look... handsome yourself." She smiled at him. "Almost human."  
He shook his head. "Be nice."  
"Well, it's definitely an improvement."  
"Sort of like everything else up here." Trevor looked around. "I guess humans like to live extravagantly to make up for the mortality thing. Look at this place. Right out of the movies."  
"Which only reinforces my belief that this is all in our heads, Trevor."  
"No," Trevor looked up. "Movies don't have this level of detail, Claire. Or dimension. Although a 3-D Kate Winslet would have been a thing to see." He looked over at her, running a hand over his ear. "Next thing you know I'll be giving old Leonardo a run for his money."  
"Don't hold your breath, Trevor."  
"I'll never understand why some women like the little boy look. Must be a mothering thing..."  
"Sounds like _someone_ is jealous..."  
He gave her an enticing look. "If you're in the mood, I could always find a sketch pad and a couch..."  
"Hmm, You don't have a grasp of reality, but I always knew you had a vibrant fantasy life. Nice to have it confirmed."  
The steward nearby still waited, watching them without speaking several steps away. He coughed loudly into his hand to get their attention, causing them to look over.  
Several of the other passengers around Trevor and Claire were already moving to either side of the grand staircase, gracefully descending the steps behind it to the next level below. They were on their way to the first class dining room, several decks down. The steward watched the two of them expectantly, rocking on his heels.  
Claire turned to Trevor. "Shall we go?"  
His face beamed. "Absolutely."  
Trevor smoothly offered his elbow to her. Claire paused for a moment, considering the idea, before sliding her arm under his. Trevor sighed imperceptibly, a thrill coursing through his shoulders. The steward turned and led them downward as they followed just behind. They descended the grand staircase, circling slowly as they went deeper into the ship. Several passengers seemed to recognize Trevor.  
"Good afternoon Mr. Hale. How have you been?" one man said, passing by without stopping as Claire turned a wary eye to Trevor.  
"Trevor, how do all these people in first class know you?"  
"I've snuck up here a few times when no one was watching. The lovelorn aren't always confined to third class." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his meaning clear. "Even successful career types need a little help sometimes too..."  
"There are hurricanes that could teach you a thing or two about subtlety, Trevor."  
"Thank you, Claire. Nice of you to think so."  
As they walked Trevor spotted someone and looked cornered.  
"Oh crap," he said.  
"What is it?"  
"Just keep smiling, Claire. See that man by the door over there? I set him up with a woman. But it turned into a prequel to the crying game. He's still a little pissed at me. Walk faster..." Trevor began to push her along.  
Once they were out of sight, Trevor took a deep breath. Claire gave him a look, smug about his failure.  
"Hey," Trevor replied, "You can't win them all."  
She nodded. "I know the feeling."  
They continued down the stairs and stepped onto a carpeted landing on D deck filled with people moving around and talking quietly amongst the reception area chairs and tables, waiting for others to join them. The steward didn't pause, leading Trevor and Claire through the crowd and to two doors into the first class dining room, where they looked around in amazement.  
The white ceiling shine brightly above, criss-crossed with a raised pattern of small beams that swirled around rows of chandeliers that pressed flush against the ceiling. Wooden pillars, painted white and elegantly shaped, marched down either side of the huge room. Filling the expanse were tables covered with white cloths, lushly aquisitioned with small flowers and dinner-ware sets. Several of the early arriving passengers were moving through the tables, dressed in their expensive finery and stepping with a stately patience. Claire spotted Mr. Hartley playing in a corner with four other string musicians, their soothing music softly filling the air.  
Trevor glanced at Claire, her arm around his. He smiled again at how gorgeous she looked. Not looking forward as he walked, he inadvertently bumped into a small serving cart, making the plates on it clatter. Claire lowered her eyes and smiled, aware of the effect she was having on him. They followed the steward deeper into the room, doing their best to go unnoticed as just two more first class passengers being seated for an early dinner. The room slid slowly past, table after table, spread wall to wall. Finally the steward stopped them at a small setting for two near the back serving doors, tucked into an open alcove on the port side.  
As Claire moved to her seat, Trevor stepped quickly around her before she could get there. Like a perfect gentleman, he held her chair out for her. She flashed him an amused look, not used to seeing Trevor chivalrous. Somehow that just wasn't his usual style. But she seated herself gracefully and said nothing, trying not to laugh as Trevor pushed her chair too far in, bumping her stomach.  
She wiggled it back to get some room to breathe. "Thank's Trevor. I think I'm close enough."  
Trevor darted back to the steward, whispering into his ear. "Nice job, my man. Everything okay with us being here?"  
The steward nodded. "This table is unassigned. No one will even notice, Trevor."  
"You did good, billy-boy. From this day forward you'll always have an 'in' with the god of love. So what do you have for me. Where are they?"  
The steward pointed across the room and Trevor followed with his eyes. He smiled at what he saw, patting the steward on the back. "That's perfect. Thanks again. Thank everyone below too. Kiss Mary twice for me when you two hook up again. Your discretion as to where to kiss."  
Once the steward left, Trevor walked over to his seat and sat down. Gaze still across the room, he began to slide his chair sideways around the table and up next to Claire. Surprised, she watched him and wondered what he was doing. He stopped once he was seated close beside her, both of them facing the same direction, Trevor noisily moved his plates over to where she was.  
"Trevor, sit any closer and we'll both be sharing a corset."  
"Hey, I'm game. Head's up Claire. There they are."  
Claire followed his eyes and saw them. Arm in arm, William and Eileen were just entering the dining room as Trevor and Claire had earlier. Eileen wore an eye catching red dress, holding a single rose in her hands. William walked smoothly beside her, dressed well with his hand placed lightly on her arm. They didn't seem out of place at all, another first class couple. Trevor's thieves had done well in dressing them. But where Claire had been struck by the beauty of their surroundings, she didn't think that Eileen and William even noticed at all. As they talked softly, they kept giving each other small affectionate glances. One or the other would laugh here or there, genuinely happy. Claire could see they had eyes only for each other. She doubted they would have acted any differently walking through a field of deep mud. A steward led them to a table near the center of the room.  
"A red dress, Trevor?" she asked.  
"Good eye, Claire. It's good to eye Claire. You peepers are obviously as well made as the rest of you. I was hoping some of the song lyrics would subconsciously sink in. You know... _that pretty red dress, I need you in less._ I can play mind games too, you know."  
"Yeah, but your home court's a mess..."  


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	12. memory like water page 12

  
  


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On the other side of the room William was pulling out Eileen's chair. When she sat down, her cheek accidentally brushed his as he pushed her in, leaning close. She turned to apologize but suddenly found her lips almost touching William's, his face next to hers. They both paused reluctantly, not knowing what they should do. Blinking, they both pulled back, coming out of the moment.  
"Sorry," Eileen apologized.  
"No problem at all."  
William seated himself across the table, marvelling at her. It still didn't quite register that any of this was really happening. All the times he had imagined this didn't capture at all what it actually felt like being there with her. Just the two of them. He barely even saw the rest of the crowded room.  
Eileen watched him quietly, her expression warm. She could still feel a tinge of nervousness at the back of her shoulders, but no where near as much as she had feared she would have. Somehow William made it all seem easy. She was perfectly, well almost perfectly, at ease with him in ways she couldn't describe or have even imagined. It was almost as if they had know each other forever.  
As the room continued to fill, they sat there listening to the soft music floating on the air. Both smiled when they caught each other's glance across the table. But they said nothing, enjoying the momentary silence. Finally William spoke.  
"Thank you again, Eileen. I'm glad you decided to come."  
"Wait a moment. I was the one who asked you, after all. It's me who should be thanking you. I'm glad _you_ decided to come."  
"Even if you were to ask me a thousand times, it would always be me in debt to you. And perhaps a Fate or two." William looked down. "So. Do you see them?"  
Out of the corner of her eye, Eileen looked across the room. "Our chaperones you mean? Yes, I see them. Claire looks lovely."  
"Everyone in steerage thought they could use some time together, after all they done. As considerate as Claire has been, it's strange to think that she most likely still believes we are just an illusion."  
Eileen looked deeply into his eyes. "Who's to say that we're not?"  
William smiled. "_We are such stuff as dreams are made of..._"  
Eileen nodded with a smile. "The Tempest. Perhaps you've a little bit of Prospero in you after all."  
He seemed amused at the thought. "Perhaps we truly are just characters in a story. In any case, I must say I've never seen an imaginary figment look so lovely." William raised his glass as he gazed at her.  
Blushing, Eileen raised her glass as well, her eyes on his. "Nor I one as charming."  
Most of the guests were finally seated all around them. Waiters began serving the tables and bringing out hor d'oeures. William and Eileen continued to speak softly as dinner began.  
From where he watched, Trevor nodded. "Nice. Almost thought it was going to happen for a moment there."  
"What, when she grazed his cheek?" Claire asked.  
"Exactly. Thought they were about to lock lips."  
"Eileen told me she has always had trouble deciding how to do that."  
"What's the big deal?" You close your lips and press them against his. If you're really lucky, you pretend your in France and open them."  
"Not how to kiss, when to kiss, Trevor."  
"No kisses now Claire, thanks for offering. I'm watching WIlliam and Eileen."  
"Trevor, you know what I meant. She can never find the right moment."  
"Well, that last moment was beating her over the head with a bat. I knew I should have taught her some hand signals. Could have waved her home."  
Later Trevor waited impatiently for the next portion of the meal to be served. He poked at the empty space on his plate where his roasted duck in applesauce had been. Though he had devoured it hungrily, now he felt somehow melancholy. Idly, he looked down at the plate's white center and the blue coloring of its rim, intricately lined and accented in gold colored trim. Some of the cups had a similar blue and white design trimmed in gold-coloring. It was all very fancy, very delicate and refined. Perhaps that was the problem. Even the food seemed more like a dissertation than a meal.  
"Trevor, this is actually quite good." Claire sat beside him, not even half done with her plate yet. "I'm surprised. Not bad for imaginary eighty year old food."  
She looked over and saw the expression he wore. With a gloved hand she pushed back a strand of hair from her face, leaning towards him.  
"Trevor, what's wrong?"  
He looked up. 'Oh nothing. Just home sick."  
Claire raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of wine. "Still yearning for the company of satyrs and nymphs?"  
He smiled. "Actually, I meant Chicago. Can't wait to go back. What I wouldn't give for a big sloppy hot dog dripping with everything right now. I wished they served some _real_ food!"  
She blinked. "Wow, Trevor. That's the first time I think I've heard you call Chicago home. Your making progress."  
"It's more home than this place, Claire. I'll get back to Olympus someday. But satyr's aren't as much fun as they look after a while. As for nymphs, I like the ones in Chicago a little better." he looked straight at her with a smile.   
Claire gave him a flirty look. "Oh, I don't think I'm the type of nymph you're looking for Trevor."  
"Still, I'd love to have you audition."  
"That makes _one_ of us."  
An older gentleman walked up to them from the spread of tables, greeting Trevor. "Mr. Hale! So good to see you again! I meant to thank you for your advice two evenings ago. You were absolutely right. Who is this lovely young woman you're dining with. Your wife?"  
Pleased at that statement, Trevor looked over at Claire. She gave him an annoyed glance before extending her hand.  
"No, not at all. I'm Claire Allen." She started to shake his hand, but the older gentleman took it and placed a kiss lightly on the back of her palm.  
"Charmed to make your acquaintance, Ms. Allen. I'm George Widner. The two of you may not be married, but by the look of it," he chuckled, "it's only a matter of time and place. Trevor has excellent taste. Don't let this one get away, Mr. Hale."  
Appreciating the man's compliment, Claire decided not to correct his misconceptions. "Thank you, Mr. Widner."  
Mr. Widner reached over to where Trevor was seated and patted him on the shoulder ."It's good to see you Mr. Hale, but I must get back to my wife. Your advice was priceless. My son told me to thank you on a separate matter, but he wouldn't say what exactly. He said that you would know?"  
Trevor smiled. "That I do. Tell Harry 'you're welcome' for me. And to eat well, he'll need his strength."  
"I will indeed, good afternoon, Mr. Hale."  
Mr. Widner moved back into the crowd. Claire watched him leave before turning to Trevor. "What advice did you give him?"  
Trevor looked evasive. "I don't think I'm going to tell you, Claire. Doctor patient privilege. I know that little caveat is one that you tend to ignore, but-"  
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Claire poked at her food nervously, not sure of how to phrase her next question. "Everyone seems to think we're a couple."  
Trevor cleared his throat. He seemed uncomfortable as well, not able to face her. "Well they see us together a lot. We're here having dinner side by side. Just an honest mistake."  
Claire tried to read his expression, before looking down. "I suppose..."  
Trevor still seemed nervous. "How long does it take to serve the next course in this joint anyway?"  
William laughed. "Sometimes pointless retribution can be quite a catharsis. Still, I'd like to state emphatically that your ex-fiance deserved every bit of it. The man was an absolute fool for leaving you."  
Smiling, Eileen lifted her hands in mock agreement. "Yes! That's what I thought! Finally, someone with a little sense."  
William pursed his lips in amusement. "I know you don't believe it, but it's true. He was a fool." He picked up his drink slowly, hiding his mouth behind it to speak. "Are they still watching?"  
As she cut into her meal, Eileen made an effort not to look at Trevor and Claire. "Yes. They seem to keep quite an interest in us."  
"Well Trevor I can understand. He likes play acting the part of Cupid. But why Claire?"  
Eileen shrugged. "Maybe at heart she's just a caring person." She looked over at them. "I don't understand why they don't see it."  
"See what?"  
"How they feel about each other. That they could be happy together."  
William followed her gaze. "I had hoped this evening would give them a little push. That's why we arranged it for them. But they still seem more interested in us than in each other."  
Eileen smiled at him. "Sometimes it takes some time for people to see what's done for their own good."  
William gazed at her. "Trevor told me that humans get so caught up in how everyone else feels that they forget sometimes how they feel themselves. Too bad he doesn't take his own advice."  
"Well maybe _we_ should. Enough about them. I have a feeling they'll figure it out eventually. And by the way, only strangers and my mother call me Eileen. People close to me call me Elly." She reached affectionately over and placed her hand on his.  
At her touch, William felt a warmth pass through him. He looked into her eyes, blue beyond imagining. "Thank you, Elly."  
She smiled and looked away as she pulled her hand back. Both of them continued their meals. Eileen glanced quickly back at Trevor and Claire. "They are still watching us though." she said.  
William chuckled, simply enjoying her company. "I wonder how they think this is going?"  
"It seems to be going well," Claire was saying.  
"Yes it does. I love a woman who makes first contact. Nothing like a little skin to skin to get your heart thumping. You should try it sometime, Claire.  
"Hmm. Good thing I'm wearing these gloves before you get any ideas."  
He looked over. "Who said I would touch you on the hand?"  
"Trevor..."  
He looked back, trying to judge Eileen and William's body language since they were out of hearing range. "See that move there? Perfect. A smiling face, a coy little laugh. Not to mention how Eileen's reacting. So far so good. Look at them. Who couldn't tell they belong together? They must be blind not to see it."  
"Sometimes people can be too close to see how close they really are, Trevor."  
"Scoot over Claire. You keep elbowing my arm."  
"Sorry."  
The final course had been served and Trevor and Claire were still watching Eileen and William. Claire nodded at what she saw, the entire meal seemed to be going well so far. "No major blow ups. They seem to be doing fine all on their own."  
"I hope so, Claire. They both deserve it. Letting go of the past is hard." He made sure not to look at her as he spoke. "Sometimes people have to be forced to move on."  
Claire noticed anyway. She gave him a level look as she stabbed her food with a fork. "If that's your thinly veiled attempt at psycho analyzing me, don't bother Trevor."  
"You've dabbled in matchmaking a time or two, Claire. So why can't I do the same?"  
"I don't dabble! Helping couples is my job after all, not just some delusional mission. And I don't use the whatever works works approach like some people at this table. I observe, I evaluate, I consider. I-"  
"Put off living your life? That's what you've been doing the last month, isn't it Claire? Waiting in, instead of moving on? Hiding away in your apartment as life passes you by? Should I go on? You're no different than William and Eileen were. Except they learned from their mistakes."  
"So after a little dabbling of your own-"  
"Hey, that's 3000 years of dabbling, just to let you know-"  
"-you're suddenly an expert on analysis? Fine Trevor. Wow me with your wisdom." She tossed her napkin down angrily.  
Trevor turned to her, not backing off. "You're afraid, Claire."  
"That's news to me, Trevor." She sounded agitated. "Tell me. What is it I'm so afraid of?"  
Trevor spoke emphatically, trying to make her see. "Of all the things that have changed in your life. Things that didn't turn out like you expected. Bet that little plan in your head included marriage by now. With Kids right? White picket fence? Since that hasn't happened and your suddenly single again, those failed hopes end up hurting you. And because of that you're afraid, Claire. Afraid of what happens next."  
She paused. "That's the biggest load of-"  
"I know you loved Frank," Trevor looked down, "even though you've never told me much about what split you up. I know it hurt you when he left. But maybe it's time for you to get over-"  
"Don't even say it! Yes I loved Frank, Trevor. But this isn't about some biological clock ticking away. It's about me, _loving_ him! A kind of love you've never felt for... someone, or won't let yourself feel! I loved him with everything I had, everything I was."  
"Exactly, Claire. I know you well enough to know that's how you are in love. That's why your always so shattered when-"  
"Well love hurts, Trevor! It hurt me more than you'll ever know. The kind of hurt you just don't 'get over'!"  
"I know that Claire! Believe me I do! Now grief is fine. I'm all for getting it out of your system. But you've let yours move in and pay rent with you."  
She rolled her eyes. "Just because I didn't drop my pants at the first man you threw my way doesn't mean-"  
"That's not what I'm talking about. Claire, let me ask you something. Before I dragged you to the carnival, when was the last time you smiled? I actually saw you smile a time or two since we've been here. I had to double check, since I almost didn't recognize it. When was the last time you actually enjoyed yourself?"  
Her voice was angry. "Well, I know right now doesn't come screaming to mind-!"  
"That's not an answer Claire."  
"Some of us have jobs, Trevor!"  
"Yeah, and some of us have lives."  
She glared at him. "And what about you, Trevor? Let's examine the fullness of that so called life of yours."  
"Don't change the subject-"  
Claire didn't listen. "You're always so busy setting up couple after couple. The god of love's all important mission! Yet, strangely enough, good old Eros never partakes himself. That's funny. How many women have you been with since I've known you?"  
"That's got nothing to do with-"  
Claire plowed over him. "I mean, you've had ample opportunity haven't you Trevor? Even here." Her jaw hardened at the thought. "I've seen the way women make passes at you at Taggerty's. But you turn them down. All of them. Poor little things are always so disappointed, aren't they? How many times have you regaled the singles group with your tales of past sexual exploits? Where are the recent ones, Trevor? How many has it been... twenty? A hundred? No. It's been none. Zero! The truth is you have even less of a life than I do so what are _you_ afraid of? Who would have imagined the god of love would be so _celibate_! So tell me Trevor. Women have offered. Why haven't you?"  
"I have told you Claire. The gods have decreed that I can't have-"  
"Oh sure," Claire said sarcastically. "That's the reason. We both know your on Earth because of how much you've always _obeyed_ the gods. Seems Eileen and William weren't the only ones running from their feelings. You won't let anyone love you Trevor because you're just as scared of being hurt as I am! Must be tough being a god when you can't even own up to being a man!"  
"I just want to go home, Claire."  
"So do I, Trevor." She snapped back. "The difference is that for me home is Chicago, a place that actually exists. For you home is just another delusion that lets you run from reality while the rest of us simple _'mortals'_ are left to live in the real world. Of the two of us, who seems to be hiding from life the most?"  
"Mr. Hale?"  
Trevor looked up to see Mr. Brailey standing beside their table. He was watching the two of them with a concerned expression. As they both looked around, Trevor and Claire realized several nearby tables were watching them as well, having heard their argument.  
Claire glared at all of them.  
"We're married!" she said forcefully.  
"Oh!" They all said in unison, suddenly understanding en masse as if that explained everything. Calmly now, they turned back to their meals and conversations.  
Trevor turned back to Mr. Brailey. "Yeah, fingers. What is it?"  
"I'm ready to play the song you requested. Remember? You cornered me below decks while Claire was touring the ship. Is now a bad time?"  
"As depressing as it sounds, there won't be a better time."  
Claire looked at Trevor. "Song?"  
"Go ahead, Mr. Brailey," Trevor told him. "And thank you."  
Mr. Brailey bowed. Straightening his musician's jacket, he moved off, glancing back at them as he wondered what they had been arguing about. He walked across the room to Mr. Hartley and the other musicians, whispering into his ear. Mr. Hartley nodded and cadenced the others to a halt, stopping the string piece they had been playing. The room grew silent except for the hush of conversations and of dinner-ware being used. Mr. Brailey took his place at the piano.  
Claire asked again. ""What song, Trevor?"  
"Clair de Lune. Mr. Bailey already had it in his repertoire, so I thought he could play it for you."  
She blinked. "Why?"  
He looked at her. "You know. Clair instead of Claire? Dumb, I know, but I'm sure there were days when even Picasso was just throwing paint against the wall. You haven't found my ear anywhere have you? The title Clair de Lune is French for-"  
"Moonlight," Claire said softly, smiling at him. She tried to cover her reaction, remembering she was still mad at him, but she couldn't quite manage it. "Debussy. right?"  
Trevor's face brightened. "Someone must have taken an elective between sorority mixers..." he sounded impressed.  
She shrugged. "A friend of mine studied music. Besides, the professor was cute."  
"Oh I get it. An A for an A. Did you know your first name means 'light' in French?. It... suits you. I personally know you would do old Selene proud."  
Claire snapped her fingers, remembering more. "Claude Debussy, 19th century french composer who specialized in Impressionism."  
"Show off. You get a gold star, Claire." Trevor searched his pockets. "Wait. I think I left them in my other dementia..."  
The music began, a serene piano solo that was slow and beautiful. The melody almost shimmered, sparse and light, hinting at tranquility and moonlit skies. As the delicate music flowed across the room, Claire looked over at Trevor, calmer than before.  
"This is how you think of me, Trevor?"  


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	13. memory like water page 13

  
  


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"Sure, sometimes. Part of you, anyway. Other parts inspire different thoughts. Impressionism fits you. You make quite an impression."  
Claire didn't know what to say, sitting silently as the music played. She smiled as she listened, touched by what Trevor had done. She wouldn't have expected it of him in a million years.  
Trevor took out the gold pocket watch Claire had given him. He flipped open the lid and looked down on it, reading the inscription again, carefully sliding his fingertips over the engraved words. _We'll always know each other, because true love remembers..._ "Claire..."  
"Yes, Trevor?"  
He looked up at her, leaning closer. "I know you don't think this is real. Any of it. That we're not on Titanic right now. That we weren't Mr. and Mrs. Collins in a former life. That the picture I have," he reached into his pocket and pulled it out," isn't really us." He placed the picture on the table, before placing the watch carefully on top of it. "But you gave me this watch anyway. Thank you again. I know you didn't have to."  
"I didn't have to, I wanted to, Trevor." Claire looked over at him, remembering. "I'm... sorry for getting so angry at you a second ago. I don't know why it's so hard between us sometimes. I guess you were just hitting... too close to home."  
"I wasn't trying to upset you Claire. I was just trying to help."  
"I know. I know that, Trevor. You're just trying to getme to stop making myself a loser. I suppose that's sweet of you."  
"You'll never be a loser, Claire. You're too remarkable for that. I've seen the kind of person you are. You just needed to be reminded how great that is. I hate to see you in pain. I... I think the world of you."  
Claire blinked at him, surprised. She had never heard him sound so forthright. "Almost sounded like honesty, Trevor. That's a new one." She turned away, feeling better. "But thank you. I'm," her voice wavered nervously, "fond of you too. Even when you're a pain in the... well, just thank you."  
"You know you'll... eventually find someone else. You know that don't you?"  
"I suppose..."  
Trevor looked at her, his face serious. "I've always wanted to ask you something. Look, I know we're doctor and patient. It's not like you let me forget that. And I wouldn't trade our friendship for the anything. But if we weren't..."  
"Trevor..."  
"I mean, if we actually had met somehow in another life, where we weren't. Would you have been... I guess what I'm asking is, imagine for a second that things were different. Have you ever thought about you and me?"  
Claire answered reluctantly. "Well... of course I have, Trevor."  
"And what did you come up with?" Trevor smiled, enjoying that he was putting her on the spot.  
Claire picked up her cup, smiling into it as she took a drink of wine.  
"No comment," she said.  
Trevor leaned back, trying to decide whether to be pleased or confused. In the end he went with both, not thinking of anything to say, but sitting silently for a few seconds. Claire sighed with satisfaction, enjoying his discomfort and that she had turned the tables and put him on the spot instead.  
Trevor looked down at the watch where it lay on the picture of him and Claire. "By the way, Claire. Do you remember when the iceberg hit? What time?"  
She seemed uncomfortable, not liking to think of it. "I don't know. Around 11:40, 11:42. Why do you ask?"  
Taking a fork from the table, he turned one of the spines against the watch. Holding it carefully, he scratched the fork along the rim of the watch face, making a mark right at 11:42. Calmly he closed the watch lid and put the watch and picture back into his pocket.  
"Just in case," Trevor said simply.  
Some time later, several lavishly adorned passengers strolled down a small hallway on A deck as they made their way aft from the grand staircase to the first class lounge. They were relaxing after their afternoon meal, engaged in pleasant conversation amongst themselves as they passed a door on their right. The door was closed. A steward waited patiently before it, smiling politely. Behind him a sign hung on the door which read **_ The Reading and Writing room is closed for the evening._** As she continued to walk by, one of the female passengers stopped momentarily, tilting her head to listen to what sounded like music coming from within. Curious, she raised an eyebrow at the steward but said nothing, moving on with her escort.  
Smiling to himself, the steward turned hopefully once they were gone and put his ear to the door, listening to the music inside as well. After a few moments he turned back around to watch the passageway, making sure there would be no interruptions into the room. So he waited, hoping Trevor's plans would work.  
Claire was looking for Trevor.  
Near the end of their meal he had said it was time for him to see to what he had called the 'next phase' of William and Eileen's date together. Without further explanation he had left her at the table, grabbing a dessert to munch on from a serving tray as he hurried away. As Claire had finished her meal she had watched Eileen and William laughing and talking warmly to each other, and suddenly she had felt very alone, looking over at Trevor's empty chair.  
Finally William and Eileen had risen from their table and left, guided by the same steward that had led Trevor and Claire. As discreetly as possible, Claire had stood and tried to follow. But when she had reached the reception room outside of the dining area, she had lost them, not getting there in time to see where they had gone."  
Then Claire had waited patiently in the reception area for Trevor to return, even as other diners began to stream out. But there was no sign of him. She hated not knowing where Trevor was or what he was getting in to. Frustrated, Claire pulled off the long gloves from her hands, draping them over the back of a chair as she rubbed her palms. It was good to be out of them, there was only so much of that sort of thing she could take. It really wasn't her. After growing impatient, Claire finally ascended upward along the grand staircase, looking for Trevor.  
Now, as Claire came up onto A deck, she still couldn't find Trevor anywhere. Her eyes swept across the balcony above her, circling around under the white glass dome as the faint sounds of a piano playing somewhere hit her ears. He was nowhere to be seen.  
Her eyes travelled to the landing between decks above her, where a clock set in to the wall ticked softly. Then they moved down the steps, and suddenly Claire noticed an overcoat drapped on the railing behind the small winged cherub. She walked over to the coat, picking up a small not pinned to it. Carefully, she read the note.  
_Claire, I knew you would look for me here (call it a hunch).  
Take the doors outside on your left.   
Put on the coat, it's cold out.  
Trevor._  
Claire smiled, looking up at the cherub and touching its wingtip. Putting on the coat, she turned to the doors on her left. Braving the quickly dropping temperature, she stepped out onto the covered first class promenade just below the boat deck. The ocean stretched before her in the late afternoon light. There was a chill in the air as the day began to bleed its heat away.  
Turning to her left she suddenly saw Trevor, standing by a large paned window, looking in. On the wooden deck beside him was a small table with some pastries and a single rose. Calmly Claire walked over to him, pulling the coat tighter over her elegant gown, rubbing her shoulders for warmth. the music seemed louder as she drew near, coming from within.  
"Trevor, I've been looking for you. What are you doing?"  
He turned and placed a finger to his lips, waving her forward to him as he watched inside. Quietly she stepped up beside him.  
"Take a look, Claire." He whispered to her as he watched what was happening inside the elaborate paned glass. Claire leaned forward and looked in.  
Inside a piano played softly as William and Eileen danced in each other's arms, slowly swaying in the center of the Reading and Writing room. the eye catching decor was sumptuous, walls richly painted in white. The furniture and wall moldings were extravagantly done in a lush Georgian style. Some of the furniture had been pushed aside to make an impromptu dance floor for the two of them on the fine carpet. There were flowers everywhere, adorning every surface except where there were candles, dotting the room like glittering stars. The afternoon sky shone dimly through the wide window, edged by the covered promenade beyond. They didn't notice Trevor and Claire.  
Outside the window, Claire nodded at all Trevor had done, impressed. He was definitely going all out. She felt a soft tap on her shoulder and she looked over to find Trevor offering her a rose, bowing elegantly.  
"Trevor... are you feeling alright?"  
"I feel fine._ I merely feed on the shadow of perfection_."  
Claire blushed, unable to stop herself. "Sounds like someone took a Shakespeare elective at old Olympus U."  
"Yeah, the professor was hot and she liked to roleplay. It's a thank you, Claire. For putting up with me. And an apology for leaving you alone, hanging in the breeze at dinner. I'm sorry but I had things to do."  
Claire looked back into the room. "So I see." She turned back to him as she lifted the rose to her nose, enjoying the scent. "Thank you, Trevor."  
"If you skipped dessert," he pushed the cart towards her, " I brought a few extra ones up here. Stakeout snacks. Like an old lady at the slots, I'm still waiting to see if this thing is going to pay off."  
Claire glanced inside as the music stopped and another song began. William and Eileen didn't even pause during the silence, dancing straight through. Claire listened to the new music, and recognized it.  
"Trevor?"  
He smiled. "Yeah. This song was my idea. Good thing my two performers in there are quick studies.'  
Claire listened as the opening phrase of the music paused, then a female singer in the room next to the piano began to sing.  
_When I fall in love, it will be forever  
Or I'll never fall in love_  
William and Eileen looked over as they danced slowly, not recognizing the song. It must be another one of Trevor's. In a corner, Mr. Brailey played the piano as the woman next to him continued to sing. She was an English woman from steerage and had an amazing singing voice. Continuing to sway slowly, Eileen and William looked into each other's eyes, concentrating instead on one another.  
William took a breath as he held Eileen, relishing the feel of her in his arms. Everything seemed perfect, and he began to lose himself in the moment as he looked down at her, eyes full of adoration. The candlelight seemed to glow into Eileen's face, she looked beautiful. Before he realized it, William felt his head lowering to hers, slowly drawing closer... until he pulled back, still uncertain.  
Eileen sighed, disappointed. She had thought that perhaps he was going to-... but no. He had pulled back. Perhaps it wasn't what he really wanted after all. Maybe he was just caught up in Trevor's enthusiasm, his belief that they belonged together. Was he having second thoughts? Eileen had no way of knowing why he was being so reluctant, but she had to know. Would he be offended if she... Looking back up at him, Eileen subtly nudged her chin closer to his, waiting for his reaction.  
William didn't pull away, watching her as she drew closer. They were on the verge of... when they both bumped into the table unexpectedly. While still dancing in each other's arms they had wandered sideways, not noticing that they had. As they danced away both of them exhaled, the mood broken. A candle tilted and fell behind the piano, igniting a small flame on the carpet.  
Mr. Brailey looked down at the tiny fire as his fingers moved over the keyboard, but he didn't stop playing. Instead he glanced up at the woman singing next to him, who saw it too. Calmly she took the glass of water placed on the piano for her to sip between songs. As she sang, and with small motions so as not to draw attention to herself, she poured the water onto the floor to douce the flame. WIthout missing a beat she smiled and placed the empty glass back on the piano. Mr. Brailey nodded his approval as he continued to play. She gave him a wink as she sang.  
_In a restless world like this is,  
Love has ended before it's begun_  
Outside the window, Trevor and Claire still watched, pulling back when it didn't happen. Trevor shook his head, frustrated.  
"Come on already! What's the hold up, Claire? Eileen have a thing against kissing?"  
"No, she's just unsure, Trevor. As unsure as William, who could do a little more, considering kissing is a two way street. You have to remember this is the first date for both of them in some time. They're re-learning some things. They may not want to push too hard or force the issue and make it awkward. They're just looking for the right moment."  
"If they can't find the right moment, Claire, its because they're both standing right on it. I wish one of them would pick a strategy and go with it."  
As the music played, William leaned down to touch his lips to Eileen's, moving slowly. But at the last second, she turned her head away and sneezed, leaving William to find only air.  
Turning her face back to him, she noticed his embarrassed expression as he was pulling away. Eileen smiled at the absurdity of it as she looked up at him.  
"I'm sorry, William. I must have a slight allergy to some of these flowers Trevor used."  
He nodded as he tried to regain his composure.  
_And too many moonlight kisses,  
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun._  
William placed his cheek against Eileen's as they swayed slowly back and forth. Both looked over the other's shoulder, trying to decide what to try next. Eileen began to carefully move her cheek sideways, trying to find a chance to turn her face towards his, but moving slowly, in small cautious motions. William mis-interpreted her actions and pulled back.  
"I'm sorry, Elly. Am I not giving you enough room?"  
For a split second, Eileen thought he referred to what she had been trying to do, but then he realized he meant the dancing. "No," she said dejectedly. "It's not you. You're fine where you are."  
"Oh."  
William sighed softly and nestled his face against hers, closing his eyes at the feel of her skin so close. Her lips were only inches from his. Eileen leaned her head against his chin, wondering how they would ever manage to get past this first awkward decision.  
She sighed in frustration. Finally she reached up and touched his cheek, turning him to her.  
"This is ridiculous," she said.  
Eileen pushed William back against a white pillar. Without warning she threw her arms around his head and kissed him, deeply. It took a moment for William to realize what she was doing, but then he closed his eyes and dove into it, arms crossing her back as they held each other closer. It's amazing how the world can change after just one kiss. They were in their own separate reality, as the room seemed to spin. They had stopped dancing in more ways than one, embracing in the middle of the finery and furnishings, surrounded by candles and flowers. Just two people in love, as the music played.  
_When I give my heart,  
It will be completely,_  
Outside, Claire smiled when they kissed. Trevor stood sampling sweets out of view, and she tapped his shoulder.  
"Trevor... look."  
He turned to look in through the window. "Yes!" he said emphatically, pumping his fist, before doing a victory strut.  
Trevor slid his face next to Claire's both looking in. She glanced at him so close, her voice an amazed whisper. "When all else failed... she jumped him."  
Trevor smiled. "Works for me."  
Claire was happy for the two of them. It warmed her in a strange way to see them together. And saddened her as well, thinking of Frank. That suddenly stuck her as odd. Why should she even care? After all, none of it was real right?  
Trevor saw her expression, amazed again how sometimes Claire showed everything on her face. "Not bad," he nodded to William and Eileen. "For an illusion."  
Surprised, Claire looked over. Sometimes he knew her so well.  
A man in a bowler hat passed behind them, the same man who had observed Trevor's 'concert'. "Ah, nothing like young love," he said.  
Trevor turned. "It's a beautiful thing. We're very happy for them."  
The man smiled. "I was talking about the two of you." He said with a smile before he continued on, a lit cigarette in his mouth.  
Neither of them knew what to say as sunlight flowed sideways onto the shadowed promenade and onto their faces as the sun dipped lower. Claire turned away from the window.  
"Come on, Trevor. Let's give them some privacy."  
Rose in her hands, Claire walked slowly away. After one more look, Trevor smiled, before following a moment later.  
_And the moment I can feel that  
You feel that way too  
Is when I fall in love, with you_  
Inside, William and Eileen continued to kiss, surrounded by flowers and candles as sunlight reflected off the paned glass. For that brief shining moment as the song ended and cadenced, the ship seemed at peace.   


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	14. memory like water page 14

  
  


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The sun was beginning to set. A vibrant orange sky sparkled on the chill waters of the North Atlantic. The great ship pushed ceaselessly through the waves, on its inevitable course with destiny. Claire stood at one of the ship's railings, silently watching the scene spread before her eyes. The breeze off the ocean brushed lightly across her pensive expression, and across the petals of the rose in her hands. Trevor walked slowly to her side, standing there wordlessly as the soft noise of the water flowing past the ship's hull wafted up to them in a soothing hush.  
Claire said nothing for several seconds, and Trevor left it that way. He sensed she wanted, needed that quiet. As she leaned over the railing, she looked down to the churning froth along the ship's sides, tinted orange in the setting sun. Her eyes began to mist as she looked up, staring out over the ocean.  
"I don't understand, Trevor. What is it all for? What does... what does any of it mean?"  
Concern in his eyes, Trevor looked at her with empathy. "I don't know, Claire. Even gods don't have all the answers. No matter how comforting it is to believe they do."  
Claire sniffed, unexpectedly on the verge of tears. "I mean... these people. This ship. They'll be gone in less than twelve hours. Why? Why did it happen... why's it going to happen? No matter if you live ten years or a hundred, any life is too short. Hopes, dreams, experiences," she looked over at him, "...loves. They'll all be gone, faded away to nothing by sunrise. Flowing past like water that doesn't stop, doesn't leave a mark before it's gone. Just when it seems you've barely found them."  
Trevor smiled sadly. "That's the thing about mortality. Just when you figure it out..."  
Claire finished for him. "-it's over."  
They both said nothing as they stood there. Silently they watched the sun edge closer to the horizon.  
Claire tried to make some sense of it, but failed. "Trevor, I don't know if this is real. If it's anything more than a hypnotist's illusion. I don't know if our lives back in Chicago are real either, for that matter. But... let's just say it is. Say it is a previous existence. Even if there are multiple lives for us, for everyone, we never remember them from one life to the next. In that context, what's love worth then?"  
"Everything," he said simply. " It's worth everything. _Love shall make the earth tremor, as it's reborn in a storm of fire and hail..._"  
Trevor turned to her as Claire looked at him, her expression curious while he continued. The setting sun cast a glow over his face.  
"That's what makes mortality the gift it is, Claire. When you're immortal nothing really matters. You began to stop caring about all the things that are really important like love, connection. Because no matter what happens, it'll eventually change anyway. So there's no joy in anything. No true appreciation. But when life can end, you have to enjoy every sunset, every smile, every bout of laughter." He smiled as he looked at her. "Every great love your lucky enough to find."  
She didn't seem convinced. "Those are just easy answers, Trevor."  
"Maybe they are, I don't know. But sometimes the easy answers are the truest."  
Claire wiped a tear from her cheek. She laughed softly at his conviction. "I suppose it's all we got."  
"It's more than you think, Claire."  
She smiled, feeling the warmth in his words. Even faced with certain doom, he held on to his optimism. There he was at her railing, still trying to convince her how precious life was. That it was worth it. She realized that if she died in the next few hours, maybe having Trevor with her did just that. Made it worth it.  
"Trevor..." she said quietly.  
"Yeah?"  
"When the end... well, when it happens. Will you stay with me? I need you to just be here with me. Please?"  
Trevor nodded. "Of course. Always."  
Claire turned away to look out over the waters. "Thank you," she whispered softly. Then reluctantly, haltingly, she reached her hand out between them, not saying a word. Trevor looked down at it, and silently he slid his hand into hers, warm and solid in the chill air. Their fingers intertwined and they both held tight as they stood outlined in black against the fading sky. They waited for the future... together.  
Later that night, Trevor woke to find Claire was gone. After the sun had fallen they had gone below decks to their small room to talk. Mostly about their lives back in Chicago. Talk which had lifted some confused eyebrows on the other passengers who had come within hearing range. As the night had worn on, Claire had fallen asleep in his arms, but only after his insistence that he would wake her before the end. She didn't want to die in her sleep. In any case, Trevor was still determined to get her into a life boat. But as she had slept in his arms it had seemed a perfect moment, holding her close. Now, as he came out of the very sleep he had tried to avoid, he woke up and found she was gone.  
"Claire?"  
Quickly he rose and looked out into the hallway. "Claire!" There was no one there except a steerage passenger stumbling down the passage, humming a tune to himself after too much drink.  
"Come on, Eileen..." the passenger lisped drunkenly.  
Trevor looked down at his wrist to check the time, until he remembered his wrist was bare. He pulled the watch that Claire had given him out of his pocket and read the hands on its wide face. His heart dropped into his stomach at the time he saw.  
"Oh, crap."  
Instantly he darted out of the room, running down the hallway calling her name.  
"Claire! Claire!"  
Frantically he searched every room, waking several sleeping passengers who cursed at him angrily. Ignoring them he continued to look. He had to find her. At a run he headed topside. He would get her to a lifeboat if it was the last thing he did. But otherwise, they had all run out of time.  
Claire hid in the shadows on deck as a ship's crewman passed, darting quickly across the forward well deck when he was out of sight. She did her best to make her way with as much stealth as possible. Closer to the lookouts. And the crow's nest.  
She could still hear what she had told Trevor about accepting the situation as real. About trying to change it. And she knew what she believed herself. But she couldn't just let this happen. She had to fight back. Things could change. It didn't take a god to alter history.  
As she moved in the cold night air she shivered. The breeze from the ship's momentum felt icy. Beyond the edge of the outer railing stretched nothing but blackness. She looked up hopefully and saw it. There it was, the crow's nest. She could see the hats atop the two crewmen assigned to lookout duty, hunkered down against the cold.  
Quietly, Claire made her way beneath them. A ladder stretched up before her. As she reached her hand out to grab it, the cold metal seemed to dig into her palm. She winced at the sensation. She placed one foot cautiously on the ladder's bottom rung. It was lunacy to climb that ladder in the shoes she was wearing, but she had no other choice. She wasn't going barefoot. Time was running out and she had to hurry. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Claire stepped up.  
"Excuse me, ma'am." A calm voice spoke just behind her. "Just what do you think you're doing?"  
Trevor was on deck now, running down well lit passages as he yelled out Claire's name. He passed through second, then first class, not caring which section he crossed. The huge ship slid smoothly by as he ran, making him feel like he was running in place. There weren't many others awake at that hour and the wooden decks were empty. Those that were awake gave him strange looks as he ran past yelling like a maniac. Standing at the starboard railing, two shadowed figures, a man and a woman, turned as he ran by. They had been laughing and talking, enjoying the other's company, holding each other for warmth, engrossed in the flush of new love. But the man looked over concerned. He carefully came out of the woman's arms, moving over to Trevor.  
"Trevor? What is it? What is wrong?"  
Trevor looked over as the man touched his arm.  
"William! It's good to see you!" He looked behind him to see Eileen at the railing. "It's good to see both of you. Have you seen Claire?"  
William gave him a strange look. "No..."  
"I've got to find her! We're out of time."  
William chuckled. "I realize you like to tell fanciful tales about being the god of love, and about being from the future. But they're just tales. Even if they did bring Eileen and me together." He looked fondly at the railing where she stood  
"No, you don't understand! We are all out of time. Time has just run out for all of us!"  
"Don't tell me. This catastrophic iceberg of yours. If there were such a thing, it would be spotted long before it could pose a threat, I'm sure of it. The lookouts would-"  
"Lookouts," Trevor said, thinking to himself. He grabbed the other man's arms. "That's it! That's where she's gone! She's trying to change it! Thank you, William."  
Trevor let go of him and ran off, leaving William absolutely confused behind him. Suddenly Trevor stopped and turned back, coming up to him again.  
"William, listen to me. Go wait by a lifeboat. Right now. No matter how cold it gets or how long you wait, don't budge from that spot. Put yourself and Eileen in one when the time comes. Promise me." Trevor spoke forcefully, soberly, glaring into William's eyes with as much conviction and seriousness as he could muster.  
William couldn't believe what Trevor was saying. No one could know the future. But even as he looked at Trevor doubtfully, for once he believed him. "Fine. I'll do just that, Mr. Hale. Me and Elly will go wait by one right now."  
"Good. I've got to find Claire. But you go this second. Hurry..." With that Trevor ran off, dashing for the front of the ship. William watched him leave and then walked over to Eileen, still waiting by the railing.  
"William, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.  
"Elly, you've got to come with me. We've got to get to a lifeboat. We may be in trouble."  
Claire stopped in mid-step, realizing she had been caught.  
_Damn,_ she thought to herself. _Not now._  
"Excuse me, ma'am. But you'll have to come down from there."  
Slowly Claire lowered her foot from the bottom rung, her mind racing. She didn't have much time and she could feel the seconds ticking away. Maybe she could talk her way out of this. Trying her best innocent face, she slowly turned around.  
"Uhh, hello sir," she said lightly. "I was just hoping to find a higher vantage point to get a better view of the ocean. Or perhaps the stars, I hear they're stunning in the North Atlantic. I noticed that perch up there is much higher than all the decks. Is there any chance I could go up there?" she glanced at the ladder.  
The crewman grunted in amusement. He had seen many passengers wandering the decks after too much to drink. "I'm sorry ma'am, it's not allowed. You really should go back to your section. You're not supposed to be here. Besides its frightfully cold up there..."  
"Oh, I don't mind. When I saw those two men," she motioned above her, "I thought what a fascinating view they must have." She turned and stepped back onto the ladder. "Maybe if I could see what it is they do..."  
The crewman came up to her and held her shoulder. "Those two men are lookouts, ma'am. Watching for icebergs and the like. They can't be disturbed. Now, I hate to sound rude, but I must insist that you-"  
"Icebergs you say? Maybe I can help-"  
"No, ma'am. You can't. Now if you will step away from the ladder, I'm going to have to insist that you go back to your section." He held her more forcefully, losing patience. Claire had to climb off the ladder again.  
She was so close. Looking up, she could see the perch high above her. She decided to try a more straightforward approach. Looking out over the bow, she tried for her best look of surprise, her eyes widening.  
"I think I see one! My god."  
"Doubtful, ma'am. The lookouts would have-"  
"No, its right there!" Claire stared blindly out into the night as she grabbed the crewman's arm and tried to get him to look. "Look! Can't you see it?"  
"I'm afraid that will be enough, ma'am!" he said loudly. "You are out of you're section! This area is off limits to you. Please come with me... now!"  
Claire looked at him and realized she had no chance of making him believe her. Out of nowhere she wondered if this was how Trevor felt most of the time. She didn't like the sensation. She sighed slowly.  
"Oh... hell."  
With that she balled her fist and slammed it into his face with all she was worth. The crewman had not been expecting it. Flailing his arms he fell backward, collapsing to the floor, severely dazed but still conscious. Claire immediately turned and began to climb, rising as quickly as she could into the night sky. The crewman looked up at her where he lay holding his nose, seeing her reckless ascent.  
"Hey!" he yelled out.  
The cold tore at Claire's clothing, as if all the heat were evaporating from her body the higher she went. She kept her eyes locked on the perch above, ignoring the growing drop beneath her. Her foot slipped on one cold rung, but she caught herself and continued to climb, not stopping.  
"Ma'am!" The crewman yelled below. "Get down from there this instant!" He scurried to his feet and started up after her.  
Claire climbed higher, her breath coming faster and faster and misting before her from her exertion. The perch grew larger, closer. Almost there, just a few feet. Then...  
She slammed into the trapdoor at the top of the ladder, flinging it open. As quickly as she could she scrambled halfway into the perch, fighting against the vertigo under her feet.  
The two lookouts were rubbing their own hands for warmth and stomping their feet. As Claire climbed unexpectedly into their platform they both turned in shock.  
"Bloody hell! What are you doing up here?"  
"Listen to me!" Her voice was desperate. "There's an iceberg out there right now! I... I saw it. A large iceberg, right there!" she pointed towards the ship's bow without looking.  
The two of them seemed to ignore her words. To them she was a crazy woman.  
"Get down from here! This is no place for a woman! What do you think you're doing!"  
"No, you have to listen to me! There's an iceberg! The ship will hit it and sink unless we turn right now! Oh god please. You have to believe what I'm saying!"  
Then the first crewman from below appeared at the trapdoor and grabbed her foot.  
"No!" she cried.  
"Ma'am, come down at once!" he said. "You can't be up here! Fellows, help me out here..."  
The two lookouts turned and grabbed Claire, pushing her back towards the ladder. "You'll have to go back down ma'am!"  
"There's an iceberg, you've got to-"  
"I'm sure there are ma'am. Plenty of them. But you've got to leave. We won't be seeing any bloody icebergs with you up here! Now please, just go back down and let us do our jobs."  
Claire looked at them. They were both like the first. They didn't believe her, they only stood watching her in annoyance. "Fine," she said finally. "I'll go back down. But there is an iceberg in our path. Please, you've got to turn the ship."  
"Of course, ma'am. We see it. Clear as day. Now if you could please step down the ladder..." Neither of them were even looking.  
Claire lowered her head, realizing it was hopeless. "I'm leaving. But it is out there! We can still avoid it."  
"Certainly, ma'am. As soon as you're gone."  
Claire nodded and began to climb back down. As she disappeared down the trapdoor one of the look outs kicked it closed again. He shook his head in disbelief as he blew into his hands.  
"Drunken loon! Some women just can't hold their spirits."  
"Just our luck she would decide to bother us," the other said. "Bit of a looker though. She could have kept us both warm, don't you think? Still, wild tales about..." he looked up. His eyes widened at what he saw.  
"Oh, christ..."  
Claire was barely halfway down the ladder when a bell sounded out frantically from above her, ringing three times. It sent a chill down her spine as she quickly climbed down to the deck. Running to a railing, she looked out over the bow. The crewman who had forced her down was at her side, the clanging bell had pushed away all thought of her transgression. Together they squinted, looking out into the darkness.  
Then they saw it. Dim in the black night.  
Claire closed her eyes and began to whisper.  
"Turn... please, turn."  
Trevor still searched desperately through the disorienting maze of decks and passages as he called her name. All around him the bright ship slept, glittering like a jewel in the night as it passed beneath his running feet. Then the jewel... shuddered.  
Trevor stopped instantly. He had felt the huge craft actually shake. A loud, moan-like sound flowed across the air from the front of the vessel, as if something were scrapping its hull. As he looked up in shock, a huge wall of ice slid silently past the ship's outer railing. He half imagined he felt the cold emanating from its surface. The icy mass was lit yellow by the ship's lighting, shadows sliding across its contours. Trevor felt his heart freeze.  
"Oh, no... Claire."  
It had happened after all. Just as he had know deep down that it would. A chill passed through him as he realized what was coming in the next few hours, unstoppable.  
The few others scattered on the deck at that hour moved to the railing, leaning calmly out to watch the iceberg grow slowly distant in the ship's wake. There was no sense of panic. No alarm on their faces. But Trevor's face was tempered with knowledge.  
There was little time, and he knew it. He still had to find Claire, if for no other reason than for his promise. Looking wildly around, he began calling out again.  
"Claire!"  
Nearby, the older gentleman in the bowler hat stood with a lit cigarette in his mouth. He had been on deck to smoke and had witnessed the whole thing. Wrapped warmly against the night air, he came up to Trevor to try to calm him.  
"It's all right, my good man." He motioned towards the departing iceberg. "No harm, no foul and all that. It was just a graze, that's all." He took another puff, as if it happened every day.  
Trevor looked at him as if he were speaking gibberish. "Stay near the lifeboats, right now." he said simply before running off, continuing his search. The man shook his head, dropping his cigarette to the deck and crushing it with his heel.  
Claire slammed open the door to their small sleep area. "Trevor! It happened! I couldn't-" She stopped as she realized he wasn't there. Leaning out of the door she called down the passageway.  
"Trevor!"  
She got no answer. Looking at the walls around her, she had the disturbing thought that everything she saw would be underwater in a few hours. She didn't know whether she should wait for Trevor there or go looking for him. Where could he be?  
Claire paced for several seconds, undecided. Then she resolved herself as her jaw set firmly.  
"The hell if I'm just going to stand around waiting for history," she said angrily. Something was wet on her forehead. She touched her skin and found a trickle of blood. Ignoring it she left the room behind, heading up on deck. She would find him. She had to, because she would allow nothing else.  
Trevor craned his neck to look up as he stood at the base of the lookout's station. Claire was no where to be seen. He looked around, wondering if his guess had been wrong. Nearby, a crewman was still tenderly touching his face. Trevor listened as he spoke with another crewman near him.  
"What happened to you mate?" the other asked. "Run into a personal iceberg of your own?"  
"No, some crazy woman punched me for trying to help her," he explained.  
The other man nodded. "That's what you get for trying to cross a woman," he said, smiling.  
"Insane," the wounded man continued. "Totally bonkers, she was. Why on earth she wanted to go up to the lookout post I'll never know. Stubborn, infuriating woman."  
Trevor stopped listening as a smile spread across his face. That was Claire alright. He turned and as innocently as possible he walked up to them.  
"Don't I know how women are," Trevor said. "Like forces of nature, you can't avoid them." He laughed to lighten the mood. "So... what did you do with little miss fist in mouth. Throw her in the brig? Push over the side?" He rubbed his hands for warmth as he said it, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.  
"She ran off once we grazed the iceberg. We had some debris knocked loose and it must have spooked her, I imagine. Foolish lass. We made it through, didn't we?"  
Trevor nodded, smiling. Without warning he sprinted off, having learned what he wanted. The two crewmen gave him curious looks as he sped away, obviously thinking the same thing.  
"Must be something in the air. Everybody's gone bloody insane."  


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	15. memory like water page 15

  
  


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It took almost an hour to find her. The ship had come to a halt and several concerned passengers were on deck. Still he searched, not stopping. But at every turn, before every lifeboat, she was never there. He knew she was probably searching for him as well, but luck wasn't with them. He could almost hear the fates chuckling. Then, Trevor heard footsteps and turned, seeing her running towards him.  
"Trevor!"  
She was in tears, face distraught as she ran into his arms. He held her tightly, thankful she was there. Claire sobbed into his shoulder.  
"I tried to stop it Trevor, but they wouldn't listen. They didn't believe me. So it's happening again. I know I told you we shouldn't change things, but I had to try. These people don't deserve to die. If only they had listened..."  
"It's OK, Claire. I'm here."  
She looked into his face. "What are we going to do, Trevor? We both know what's going to happen."  
Trevor's voice was full of conviction as he tried to comfort her. "We'll stay together, Claire. I promise, together we'll get through this." He noticed the trickle of red on her forehead.  
"You're bleeding," he said, worried  
"Oh, it's nothing. Some ice was knocked loose when we hit and it missed me...mostly. It was just a graze."  
Trevor wiped her forehead clean. They held each other there, as the deck began to fill with passengers. A crewman darted past on some errand but they ignored him. As the minutes passed, the deck crowded. They held on to the only thing they knew was real, each other. Trevor wanted to always hold her, he realized that. And for once Claire didn't question how close they had become. She knew he was more then just her 'patient'. Here at least, in this crazy fantasy where neither of them knew what it meant. Neither could fully face what they felt. But in that moment, it was all they had. The first of the flares began to go up.  
It had been more than just a graze. For both Claire and the ship. In the frightful hours that had followed, they had witnessed the panic on the decks as around them the empty ocean beckoned in the night. Trevor did his best to dress Claire's wound, but nothing seemed to stop the bleeding. No one responded to the flares as the ship began to tilt more and more, growing ever steeper before the passengers were really conscious of it.  
He held on to Claire, still waiting for a spot on a life boat. She drifted in and out of consciousness from her blood loss, forcing him to hold her up. Trevor kept changing the bandage on her wound, and tried to get some medical assistance from one of the crew. In the mayhem, most refused to help them. Those that did offered little less than consoling words. In the greater scheme of things the problems of two steerage passengers didn't seem to hold much importance. In the end Trevor couldn't leave her. So he stayed as he had promised, arms around her even as the last lifeboat left. Trevor lost track of time, dazed as the ship twisted and broke around him, holding Claire close.  
The great ship had finally slipped beneath the waves. Like a whale diving for the depths, its massive structure fell deeper into the icy Atlantic. Trevor found himself underwater, floating free as he held on to Claire's arm while the suction of the ship's passing dragged them further from the surface. When he was finally able to hold his position in the water, he pulled her towards him, but he felt her body go limp. Panicked, Trevor looked into her face. Claire's eyes were closed, her head falling against her shoulder.  
The world seemed to pull away as Trevor lost conscious thought. Memories of Chicago fell away, unimportant. The piercing cold of the ocean was ignored. All he could see was that shining spark of light that was her... fading.  
_Not her,_ he thought. _This can't be the lesson for me._  
Trevor shook her and got no response.  
_Please, not her. Don't let me lose her. Anyone but Claire, please..._  
Her body remained limp in his hands. Trevor felt his soul wilt to nothing. The despair began to drive him into a frenzy.  
_Don't leave me, Claire. I've got to do something.._  
In a desperate panic he wrapped his arms around her and kicked for the surface, but the water was pitch black. Bubbles flowed crazily around him, swirling every which direction. He couldn't tell which way was up. Looking at her, Trevor realized he was losing her. He still held the one last breath he had taken before the water had swallowed them, and he came to a decision. Grabbing her head in his hands he pressed his lips into hers and blew into her mouth, trying to give her some slim chance, hopeless as it was.  
The oxygen depravation began to make him feel woozy as the deep ocean seemed to swirl around them. With heavy lidded eyes he looked at Claire and still saw no response. They were going to die. Nothing could change that fate.  
Trevor was seeing things, there was no doubt about it. The bubbles seemed to dance past him, forming shapes. A swirl appeared like a galaxy turning slowly, with bubbles in place of individual stars. The galaxy condensed, falling in on its own shape. Trevor calmly wondered why bubbles would do that, instead of rising to the surface. He didn't realize when, but he began to feel a strange sensation, as if he were being watched. Looking over, he saw Claire was still unconscious. And he was quickly heading for the same thing. But before he succumbed, he looked around quickly to see if the two of them were alone. The only things around them were the bubbles.  
Passing in strands separated from the main undulating mass, streams of bubbles rose silently upward, in twisting lines rising to the surface. Trevor knew he should follow them up, but his mind was hazy and tired. He couldn't find the strength to move, or to even remember why he should. But still, he felt watched. With a sudden realization he knew where the sensation was coming from. It was coming from the mass of bubbles, hovering a few feet away from them in the water.  
Trevor passed out but came to almost immediately. Everything began to slow as if time were stretching. The hazy cloud condensed even further. The bubble streams ascending around him came to a crawl. The cloud condensed into a shape, a form. A figure of a man. The figure came silently towards them like a wraith. Somehow, it spoke.  
  
_I WAS RIGHT. IT IS YOU._  
  
Trevor heard the voice in his head. He replied in his own thoughts, the air in his lungs long since gone.  
  


    _What are you? Are you in my head? A hallucination?  
  
PERHAPS. BUT WHO'S HALLUCINATION? HERS, YOURS, OR THE WOMAN IN THE TENT?  
  
How do you know me?  
  
I KNOW ALL OF YOUR KIND, FOR I AM ONE. YOU ARE A FAR PLACE AWAY FROM OLYMPUS.  
  
Neptune? No. You can't be. You're just a mirage. This is all from the oxygen depravation...  
  
DID THE OTHERS SEND YOU HERE AGAIN? ALWAYS HOPING YOU MIGHT LEARN. WHAT IRONY. GETTING CAUGHT IN YOUR OWN LESSON WHILE I TEACH THESE MORTALS ONE OF THEIR OWN. THE WORLD FOLDS IN ON ITSELF AS IT'S CONSTANTLY REBORN. EVEN GODS CAN BECOME CAUGHT IN THE CREASES.  
  
You did this? You caused the ship to sink? Why? For what possible reason?  
  
FOR ARROGANCE. MINE AND THEIRS. MY ARROGANCE FOR COMPLETE RULE OF THE OCEANS. THEIR ARROGANCE FOR NO LONGER FEARING THEM. THEY HAD TO BE TAUGHT A COSTLY LESSON.  
  
Too costly. I have a mortal with me. She doesn't deserve to die like this. She's beautiful and kind. Caring. Please, help her.  
  
I HAVE NO COMPASSION FOR MORTALS. THEY ARE TRIVIAL.  
  
No, they're not. You haven't seen what I've seen. Felt what I've felt. They're amazing. They're wondrous. They're... fragile. Help this one, I beg you. Please.  
  
YOU CARE FOR HER?  
  
Yes, no matter what form either of us takes, I love her.  
  
AS YOU ALWAYS HAVE. THIS MORTAL HAS ALWAYS HELD YOUR HEART. IF I DO AS YOU ASK, THERE MUST BE A PRICE, WHETHER YOU ARE ONE OF MY KIND OR NOT.  
  
I'll pay any price. Let her live, please!  
  
YOU WOULD PAY MUCH, BUT I ONLY ASK THIS...  
_
As he spoke the figure began to dissipate, his 'body' forming curving swirls that arched outward as they separated. The swirls began to turn towards Trevor and Claire. The voice continued.  


    _YOUR PENANCE SHALL BE YOUR FORGETFULLNESS, AS BOTH OF YOU PASS THROUGH THIS LIFE AND ALL THE MANY AFTER. YOU WILL HAVE A MEMORY LIKE WATER. YOU WILL NEVER HOLD WHAT CAME BEFORE. YOU WILL NEVER REMEMBER THE LESSONS YOU MUST RELEARN. EACH MEETING BETWEEN YOU WILL BE LIKE A FIRST RAIN, PURE, NEW, AND OLD...ALL AT ONCE._
  
  
The bubble streams raced towards them. Trevor suddenly realized something. That was it. That was why he didn't remember this life, this place. That was the price. Without warning the bubbles crashed into both of their faces, flowing in through their nostrils and mouths, filling their lungs with air.  


    _YOU WILL REMEMBER NOTHING BUT THE SLIGHTEST. ONLY THE SMALLEST DROPLETS OF MEMORY. YOUR ROAD TOGETHER WILL NEVER BE A SIMPLE ONE. THIS... I DECREE._
  
  
Trevor felt the oxygen returning to his brain as his thoughts began to clear. The air depravation made him feel like he were coming out of a trance. But now he revelled in the sensation of breathing underwater. Surely he only imagined the stream of bubbles pouring into him. He turned his head and looked at Claire as her eyes fluttered open. Still dazed, she reached for him. Trevor grabbed her hand.  
Two more bubble streams arched down beneath them, rising quickly until they flowed past their bodies, lifting them. Their speed increased as they rose, riding a tingling jet of bubbling air. The surface loomed above and Trevor felt his eyes go heavy again, tired. Looking over he saw Claire was already asleep, a curtain of bubbles rising between them. Trevor smiled when they broke the surface. In a haze, he imagined the bubbles continuing upward, flowing into the night sky to form distant stars, before he passed out.  
Coming to, Trevor shook his head to clear it. He no longer felt any water encasing his wet body and clothes. Looking down at his chest, he saw a thick blanket wrapped around him. Lying next to him was Claire, wrapped in a blanket of her own, soaked as he was. A man loomed overhead, outlined in black against the starry sky. His lips moved as he asked a question, but Trevor heard nothing. Still dazed, Trevor propped himself up on one elbow.  
They were in a lifeboat. Wet and cold, but alive.  
Trevor laid back down and laughed. He mouthed a silent thank you to the heavens. Then he turned his attention to the man over them.  
A lit cigarette dangled from his mouth, its point glowing orange in the night. Trevor recognized him from the ship. He had been on deck trying to calm him when he had been looking for Claire. Tenderly, the man touched their foreheads and held his fingers there, checking their conditions. Smoke billowed from his mouth as he exhaled, one finger on each of their faces. He watched them both with gray eyes, eyes Trevor remembered seeing somewhere before.  
"So," the old man asked. "Did you learn anything?"  
Recognition registered on Trevor's face. But before he could answer, a blue light flared underneath the old man's fingertips and again Trevor fell into nothing.   
The old woman suddenly exhaled the breath she had been holding, blowing out smoke vapor as she did. Calmly she pulled her fingers away from Trevor and Claire's foreheads. Lit cigarette still dangling from her lips, the wrinkled psychic reached up and held it between her fingers as she inhaled deeply. Her gray eyes watched them carefully in silence.  
Trevor and Claire snapped their eyes open the second she pulled back, both coming awake. Quickly they looked around in confusion, wondering if they were still floating in the North Atlantic since their clothes were still wet. But slowly they realized where they were, in the psychic's tent at the carnival. Their soaked clothes were the same clothes they had entered with, drenched from the downpour that continued to pelt the roof of the tent above. They sat exactly where they had been before, on two metal folding chairs, placed directly across from the fortune teller.  


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	16. memory like water page 16

  
  


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Still in a daze, Claire looked over at Trevor. With an excited rush she reached over and threw her wet arms around him, catching him by surprise.  
"Trevor! We're alive! I can't believe it. What happened?"  
Trevor laughed over her shoulder as she hugged him warmly. He held her in return. "I don't know, Claire."  
"Never mind, Trevor. It doesn't matter." She squeezed him tighter. "I'm just so glad we're both here."  
"We keep agreeing lately, Claire. Hope it's the start of a trend."  
Smiling, she pulled back slightly to look at him, touching his wet face, real in her hands. "I don't," she said, happily.  
Impatient as she waited, the old woman grunted loudly, causing both Trevor and Claire to look over. "So. You didn't answer my question, Trevor. Did you learn anything?"  
They both looked at her blankly, trying to make sense out of what had just happened. Trevor fumbled for words, not really understanding what she was asking.  
"What did you do to... Where were we just now?"  
The old woman sighed slowly. This was not a good sign. "You know, I'm really tired of running into the two of you. Weaving your destinies is a pain when both of you always have to start from scratch." Out of nowhere the psychic chuckled. "Does make fortune telling a breeze... "  
Still disoriented, Trevor and Claire didn't catch what she was implying.  
Leaning back, the old woman puffed on her cigarette. "I suppose old fish gills will be angry that I broke his decree. Oh well. Never liked him anyway. But my original question remains. Did either of you learn a single thing about your short time together? About what you feel for each other?"  
More blank looks from the two of them as they looked around, still trying to accept that they were back in Chicago.  
Claire looked over at him. "Trevor, is this real?"  
Trevor chuckled, unsure. "Which part?"  
The old woman shook her head. "I should have known better. You didn't learn a thing. In my foolishness I'd hoped that a little wisdom would leak through. But even after eighty odd years or so you two still think you have it all figured out. And by the way, before you criticize next time Trevor, maybe I'm so boring at Bachhy's parties because his parties aren't as fun after the first thousand times or so. This may be a surprise to you, but some of us actually grow up."  
Trevor blinked at her. "Who are you?"  
The old woman threw her arms up in disgust. "You got me. I'm a fake. A total fraud. Neither of you ever left the tent for all I care. I had you hypnotized the whole time. Should have known you would never believe it. Or question it to death," she looked over at Claire. "Always the same. Can't see what's right under your noses can you? Oh well. Maybe next life..."  
The old woman looked at them slyly as an idea occurred to her, eyes wickedly amused as she considered them. "Unless... you would like to have another peek. Another trip into a different former life?" She cracked her knuckles eagerly before her in anticipation, ready to begin again.  
The two of them didn't know what to say as they silently turned their heads to look into each other's eyes. Without warning, they both jumped to their feet and ran frantically from the tent, moving as fast as they could. The metal chairs clattered onto their sides as Trevor and Claire bolted back into the rain outside.  
The old woman sighed wearily. "I really need a new gig..."  
Warm rain pelted their skin as both of them sprinted away, leaving the old woman's tent behind. They raced down the empty midway, footsteps splashing through the water puddled on the asphalt. Late afternoon sunlight flowed out from under the thick cloud cover above as the sun dipped down, shining bright in their faces. The rain continued to pour from the sky in sheets, soaking them even further, cascading droplets flashing golden in the sunlight. Out of breath, they finally stopped running well out of sight of the psychic's tent. Bathed in glimmering rain and golden light, Claire turned to Trevor as water dripped off her chin. She raised her voice to be heard.  
"Trevor, what happened back there?" Claire pushed the wet hair from her face.  
Trevor looked back the way they had come, thinking of what they had seen, what they had experienced. But as he faced her, he had no answers. "I have no idea, Claire."  
"But..." Confused, Claire looked around, needing to understand, needing to have things wrapped up and tidy. Trevor watched her, bathed in sunlight as water dripped off of the two of them. The rain seemed to glow all around, a curtain of falling drops between them. Out of nowhere Claire looked up... and laughed.  
"What's so funny Claire?"  
She smiled as she tilted her head back, letting the rain pour over it. She turned to Trevor with a joyful expression. "Do you see this, Trevor? It's raining in total sunlight. Isn't it beautiful?"  
Trevor laughed with her. But he didn't look up, he had eyes only for her. "Absolutely."  
He didn't think she caught his meaning, since she never had before. But the smile she gave him told him otherwise. That maybe she always had.  
"You know what Trevor? If that was all real or not, it doesn't matter."  
"So what are you saying?" He watched her, enchanted by her gleeful demeanor.  
"That I'm glad we're home." Claire looked at him with affection. "That you were right. My parameters of fun shouldn't be weather specific. That I should wave my hands at the thunder and make myself the tallest thing for miles. And that sometimes all it takes..."  
Smiling, Trevor finished for her. "Is spinning very fast."  
Enthusiastically, Claire spread her arms and spun around, enjoying the rain and light around her with an elated smile. When she stopped, Claire reached over and dragged Trevor into her arms and they danced through the puddles beneath them. As they stepped around each other, they began a few of the moves they both knew, two solitary figures standing in the rain and sunlight, dancing alone in an empty midway. As Claire spun back in to Trevor, she laughed. With a light hearted push on his chest, she came out of his arms  
He watched her happily. "What now Claire?"  
Claire smiled as she brought her face near Trevor's. He tensed as she came closer, and Claire enjoyed his discomfort. Leaning forward, her lips were only inches from his when she... grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him after her.  
The old woman looked out at the rain and shook her head in disgust. She pulled her tent flaps closed, flipping the sign that hung there to the side that read **_Cloe's Fortune Telling. The moira is out._** As the rain pelted the roof of her tent, she walked back inside without any enthusiasm. Muttering to herself, the aged fortune teller picked up the chairs Trevor and Claire had knocked over. Then she shuffled back to her own chair, lighting a fresh cigarette as she sat down. Putting away the crystal ball, she scooted the ash tray base within reach as she spread the want ads on the table before her. She exhaled a cloud of smoke, briefly passing her free hand through the floating vapor without thinking. Disgusted, she folded the want adds into a small square. Picking up a pair of scissors, she spun them expertly in her hands before cutting into the folded newspaper. She worked quickly, without pause, cutting away paper like a pro. Then she put the scissors down and pulled the folded paper apart. It made a long chain of interlinked hearts. For the first time, the old woman smiled. Puffing again, the old woman reached down and pressed play on her radio, as it sat on the floor beside her chair. A song started, playing loudly.  
_I met you before the fall of Rome,  
And I begged you to let me take you home.  
_ The rain had stopped and the clouds above had finally cleared away. The sun turned a golden red as it dipped towards the horizon, painting the sky in rich colors. Claire screamed happily, grabbing Trevor's arm beside her as they took the first drop. The wooden railing of the rollercoaster sped past in a blur, colored lights flashing by. Claire laughed, bathed in the light of the setting sun as the seat rattled against the rails. Looking over at her, Trevor smiled, gripping the bar before him. As the coaster rose to the next apex, he lifted both arms, nudging Claire to do the same. Reluctantly at first, she did and she laughed again when they swept downward and across the bottom. The track continued on, and Claire remembered to enjoy ever second of it.  
_ You were wrong, I was right. You said goodbye, I said goodnight.  
It's all been done, it's all been done, it's all been done before._  
A small plastic ring fell soundly onto the wooden peg it was thrown at. Claire smiled smugly at Trevor as they stood in front of the game booth, pleased with herself. Behind them night had fallen and the midway bustled with people. The grungy booth operator handed Claire a small teddy bear, which she shoved into Trevor's hands with satisfaction.  
Trevor gave her a look. Plopping down some money on the counter, the operator gave him three throwing rings. Holding the rings before him, Trevor adjusted his aim from the target Claire had hit to a wooden peg far in the back, near the tent's roof. With three quick flicks of his wrist he sent the rings flying in quick succession. They all landed squarely on the peg, one right after the other. Trevor laughed with confidence as the operator shook his head, believing he had designed that shot to be impossible. Pulling it off the ceiling, he handed Trevor a large four foot long teddy bear. With a smug expression Trevor looked over at Claire, who sighed and waited with her arms outstretched, until he turned and decided to keep both bears for himself, whistling as he walked away.  
Claire watched him leave in disbelief, hands on her hips. She thought about what to do, tongue in her cheek, until she smiled and ran to chase Trevor through the crowd as he sprinted away.  
_I knew you before the west was won.  
And I heard you say the past was much more fun.  
_ As Claire stepped out her shower wrapped in a towel, she moved past her bed where a yard long teddy bear was propped against her pillows. Drying her hair with another towel, she sat down before her dresser and picked up a hair brush. As she slid it through her hair she looked at her face in the mirror, remembering how she and Trevor had done the same thing in their cabin on the ship. She could hear his voice now, implying that she hadn't been smiling enough recently. Well, she was smiling now. And as she looked at herself in the mirror, she decided that she liked it.  
Noticing something on her dresser, Claire looked over. It was a picture frame, laid face down. Calmly, she reached over and stood it up where she could see it. It was a picture of Frank, and it had been face down in that spot for weeks. But now, for the first time in a long time, Claire didn't feel bad when she looked at it. Instead she smiled as she looked at herself in the mirror, face content  
As Trevor walked into Taggerty's carrying a small teddy bear, Champ called out to him from behind the bar. Walking over, Champ handed him a bag that he said Claire had left for him. She had come by earlier that night. Curious, Trevor read her writing on the outside of the bag. **_To Trevor. From Claire. A true 'First Class' meal._**  
Trevor opened the bag and reached in, only to pull out... a hot dog, covered in chili and cheddar cheese, with extra onions, mustard, mayo, ketchup, and absolutely no sauerkraut. He laughed, pleased. Turning to the kitchen, he went to get some supplemental food items. He had some catching up to do..  
_ You go your way, I'll go mine. But I'll see you next time.  
Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done. Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done.  
Woo hoo hoo, it's all been done before._  
Trevor sat before a banquet of greasy foods which he tore into with vigor as the busy crowd at Taggerty's buzzed with activity all around him. Biting into a hamburger, Trevor was again disappointed by the fact that Taggerty's didn't serve pizza. As he chewed he watched the crowd, suddenly realizing how similar it was to the gatherings on the ship. Some things never truly changed. As the crowd parted before him, he noticed the unused piano in the corner. Trevor became thoughtful, wondering what part of what he had experienced had been real. Putting down the hamburger he stood up and walked slowly across the room to the piano.  
Claire was seated at her dinner table, two candles lit before her as she had a late meal alone. Taking a drink of wine, she looked over at the small table where she had placed the bags she had brought home with her. Curious, she stood up and walked over to them. Reaching into one, she pulled out an oversized book with a painting of Titanic on its cover, still wrapped tightly in cellophane. After stopping at Taggerty's, she had gone across the street to the bookstore and purchased it. Looking at the picture, she walked back to her dinner table, placing it before her as she sat down.  
Champ struggled to carry a large rack of glasses through the doors out of the back room. As he took the glasses behind the bar he looked up, surprised. A crowd had gathered around Trevor as he sat before the piano, playing fluently. Others turned to listen from all over Taggerty's, enjoying his performance. Champ blinked, knowing that Trevor didn't know how to play. When did he learn to do that?  
_And if I put my fingers here, and if I say I love you dear,  
And if I play the same three chords, will you just yawn and say  
Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done. Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done.  
Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done before._  
Cellophane removed and discarded, Claire hands flipped delicately through pages filled with pictures and facts about the 1912 luxury liner. She smiled at what she saw, recognizing several of the areas depicted, knowing what lay beyond the camera lens. Claire found a list of passengers and began looking through it with curiosity. She recognized several of the names. Violet Jessop. John Priest. David Bowen. Stella Sage. Mr. and Mrs. McNamee. Claire purposely avoided the statistic that told who had lived and who had died. She wasn't ready for that yet. But as she looked for William and Eileen, it suddenly occurred to her that she had never heard their last names. And there was no mention of a Mr. and Mrs. Collins at all, although there was an Elizabeth Allen in 1st class and a Reginald Hale in 2nd. She wondered who they were.  
Trevor's fingers danced over the keyboard, gaining confidence as he began to play with more embellishment. Looking back at his audience with a smile, he brought his foot up to bang on the keyboard as he continued to play. The crowd was all smiles behind, some had even begun to dance. Champ stood watching at the bar, shaking his head in wonder.  
Claire's fingers danced over the pages of the book she read, flipping through until she came to several color pictures of restored artifacts recovered from the floor of the ocean. Cups, luggage, pieces of hull. As she turned the page her heart stopped, and she smiled down at one picture.  
_Alone and bored on a 30th century night,  
Will I see you on the Price is Right?  
Will I cry? Will I smile? As you run down the isle?  
Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done. Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done.  
Woo hoo hoo! It's all been done before._  
Trevor finished the song with a flourish as the crowd burst into applause. He turned and took a bow, shaking his shoulders to increase the crowd's enthusiasm. He held his hands in the air before him, looking at them in surprise. Apparently he had retained something of the experience after all.  
Claire's finger traced delicately down a picture of a gold pocket watch with its lid open. It had been cleaned and restored, and she could just make out a tiny scratch carved into the rim of the watch face, marking a time of 11:41. On the open lid, Claire read an inscription as the floor seemed to drop away beneath her.  
  
_**We'll always know each other, because true love remembers...**_  
  
Claire laughed before she could stop herself. Her expression amazed, she looked up and thought of Trevor, considering things about the two of them she would have never considered that morning. Considering what he meant to her, and what she meant to him. And for once, she didn't run from those feelings.  
She smiled at the picture, knowing that it didn't really prove anything. Her analytical mind knew that she could have seen it years ago and incorporated it into the delusion she and Trevor had shared. But that didn't stop her from smiling at the memory. In the end it didn't matter. It had been real to her. For the first time she could see how Trevor could believe all the things he believed about himself.  
_ It's all been done... It's all been done...  
_ Trevor threw his coat onto his bed as he walked into his bedroom. Unnoticed by him as it fell beneath the bed, a small black and white picture fell out of the pocket. It was of Trevor and Claire, her face smiling as he kissed her cheek before a worn farm house and rolling country side in the back ground. Trevor wondered if he should call Claire as he kicked off his shoes and pushed them under his bed. The picture was pushed further into the shadows, slipping under a pile of discarded Pizza boxes.  
Taking a sip of wine, Claire thought about Trevor, wondering if she should call him. She realized he had been right about one thing. She needed to start living again. The words of the fortune teller were in the back of her thoughts. How lives dance along their courses like smoke floating on the air. With memories like water, forgetting what shapes came before. But this time, she remembered.  
Claire looked happily at the candle flickering before her, shorter than before. Leaning forward, she blew it out. Ribbons of smoke twisted upward from the wick. Claire trailed her fingers slowly through them, smiling as they bent around her passing fingers.  
_ It's all been done before._   


THE END   
  
OF PART THREE OF THIS SERIES  
  
PART FOUR is  
  
WHEN THE BOW BREAKS  



End file.
